


Through Eagle Log.

by RussianSunflower3



Series: Sunflower's HanaIwa week [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Day 1, Fae & Fairies, Fantasy, HanaIwa week, M/M, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-07 21:39:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7730686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianSunflower3/pseuds/RussianSunflower3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hanamaki is a fairy aid to the Fae Prince, an adventurous peony child that longs to discover things no fairy has ever seen before.<br/>Iwaizumi is a human with a bizarre scar across his chest, that seems to resonate with the lunar cycles.</p>
<p>The tale of how their separate realms came together starts with a pond, and a strange place called Eagle Log.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lunar phase: Full moon 1

Hanamaki, by fairy standards, was a large fairy. He was almost as tall as a snowdrop, whilst the average was buttercup height. Hatched from a peony bud, Hanamaki was one of the rarest fairy types around. He had been selected since growing in the bud to become an important member of the fairy society – Aid to the fairy Prince, who was about his age and preparing to be king. His light pink hair matched his soft wings, as well as the markings on his face that identified him as a twilight fairy, a user of moon magic as well as a peony hatchling. These facts combined made him one of a kind, the rarest of his species. His clothes were crafted from the petals of the blue peony he hatched from, gifted to him by the maiden fae who had watched over his bud and made sure he arrived in this world safely.

Now, at 17, he was snowdrop height, best friends with a witch – a forbidden and secret friendship –and the future fairy king, yet he still craved more. His feathery wings itched for flight and adventure beyond marked borders, a desire to discover something no fairy had seen before. Sighing as he stared out through the waterfall, Hanamaki fiddled with the two baby feathers hanging from his ears. The bird feathers were a mark of importance, plucked from a bee hummingbird as it groomed for the first time. 

The bee hummingbird in question was a tiny silver specimen that accompanied the Prince at all time. The Prince could telepathically speak with the hummingbird and addressed it as Suga. Hanamaki was admittedly a little envious about how the Prince got to ride a _hummingbird_ when he had to resort to a bumblebee. They were in no means as swift and agile, which meant Hanamaki crashed a lot when the Prince raced him through the grass blades. His brow furrowed and wings twitched again at the thought of flight. Maybe the Prince would be ready soon and they could _go_.

“Makki-chan~!” Speak of the devil.

“What took you so long, Oikawa?”

“Well, I couldn’t go out in the same outfit again, could I?” Hanamaki glances over his shoulder, lifting his wing to see under it and promptly groaning. Oikawa has crafted yet _another_ balloon flower into a dress, separated collar and sleeves. He wore his leaf and large feather crown, a permanent fixture that annoyed him because the dark green leaf did _not_ match any of his outfits. He preferred the purple-blue balloon flowers, using dexterous fingers to separate the dark blue veins from the lighter petals before crafting them into stunning outfits that were feminine and beautiful. It suited him to a T, as much as it complimented the dark purple swirls on his cheeks that marked him as a user of life magic, the most powerful of all.

“Let’s go down to the pond!”

“The pond? I thought you hated it ‘cus of all the midges.” 

“Hmm, well, yeah... But tonight’s a full moon! I read in my books that when life and moon come together over the bright circle in rippled reflection; a great _secret_ will be revealed! Moon is your magic, if you couldn’t figure that out.” Hanamaki stares at Oikawa with crossed arms and a deadpan expression. He still dares to tease, though, because their friendship wouldn’t be complete without tormenting each other.

“I knew you only wanted me for my magic.” With an offended gasp, Oikawa launches himself at Hanamaki and pulls him into a tight hug, slightly crushing Hanamaki’s downy wings. More importantly, his arms are cutting off his air supply!

“No, Makki, no! I want you as my friend! Not just for magic!”

“Ow, Ow, Ow! Oikawa, stop! I was joking and now I’m choking! Let me go!” The hug is released and Oikawa wears an annoyed pout with puffed out cheeks.

“Mean, Makki.” He snickers and swats at Oikawa’s shoulder playfully before stretching his wings to full length and running over through the open windows he was formerly staring through onto the balcony made of an acorn shell, and freefalling. He knows Oikawa is following because he can hear Suga’s silver hummingbird wings beating frantically to keep up. Hanamaki puffs out his wings, feeling the breeze ruffle each individual feather before he finally opens his eyes. The ground is coming in fast, so he angles his wings to slow down and whistles sharply. 

Oikawa is laughing in glee before Suga manages to catch him, and Hanamaki swears the bee hummingbird ages about a decade when Oikawa tries to steer him through a cobweb, the silk threads dangerous and sticky if one were to get caught. At the same time, it protects the fairies from unwanted visitors in most directions, except for the entrance to their kingdom, large enough for Hanamaki’s bumblebee to fit through. Today, however, they are trying to escape unnoticed. The hummingbird weaves his way through the webs as Hanamaki wonders where the _fuck_ his bee is. 

“TERU, I swear to _fuck_ if you aren’t here in two seconds, I will confiscate your nectar for a _**year**_!” The threat ensues that Terushima – the fastest bumblebee on the field – is there within a single second, sweeping under Hanamaki and catching him just before the Peony fairy hits the floor. Granted, he could have landed safely if he’d further angled his wings into a parachute, but there’s something about the freedom of falling that stops Hanamaki resorting to the normal method. Hanamaki clips his feet into the stirrups and grips the front of the saddle made from a rose petal, yanking upwards to assist Terushima in heading after Suga. 

“Hurry Makki, the patrol will be here soon.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Oikawa makes a show of darting in and out of the cobwebs, checking for the widest and safest route out of the protective webbing. Once it’s plotted out, he guides Hanamaki and Terushima through it, Suga taking the back as it provides a burst of wind forwards that brushes the thinner lines of web out of the way. Sometimes, Hanamaki is _really_ envious that Terushima isn’t a bee hummingbird instead of... Well... A bee. Actually, he takes that back. He wouldn’t be able to keep up with Terushima if he was anything other than a bee. A bumblebee that has managed to manoeuvre out the cobwebs with much help.

“Ahh, wing room.” Hanamaki makes a show of ruffling through his feathers with his fingers, watching Oikawa’s face morph into bitterness. As much as the prince wanted wings as soft as snow and bright like the sun, he was born with transparent leaf-shape wings of a flecked tawny colour that matching the lighter highlights of his hair. As royalty, the sparkled and glittered, but Oikawa was constantly complaining about how it would look so much better on feathery wings. Hanamaki, therefore, teased him to the ends of the earth about it, playing on Oikawa’s envy to make him surge in annoyance. At least it stops his ego getting too large.

“Stop messing around! We _have_ to get to the pond and perform the ceremony whilst the moons reflection is in the centre!”

“Alright, alright... I’m coming.” Mounted on hummingbird and bumblebee respectively, they set towards the pond. In the moonlight, the midges and gnats are plentiful, swirling around in a tornado formation just above the surface of the water.

“Oikawa! Hanamaki!” At the friendly voice, Oikawa and Hanamaki unsaddle from their friends and flutter over to a black shoe, which leads up to stripy green leggings, and the rest of the body of a witch. They fly up his leg and around his body until they each come to settle on a shoulder. The witch, with black shaggy hair and rich brown eyes, chuckles warmly and softly.

“I guess you guys are here for the event too?”

“We sure are, Mattsun! I figured out that Makki and I are ‘life’ and ‘moon’. It’s our magic! The bright circle was _obviously_ the moon, and we just had to find something that rippled.” Matsukawa nods, almost knocking the tiny fairies off his shoulder.

“Good choice. This pond resonates with energy. I can provide the ripples, but we’ll have to work fast.” The tip of Oikawa’s silky soft wing strokes across Matsukawa’s cheek as he stands, stretches, and then dives. Suga had been chirping pleasantly to Matsukawa’s owl companion – Bokuto – when he tweets a sound like a shriek and darts to catch Oikawa on his back. The fairy prince laughs and Hanamaki rolls his eyes. He waits for Matsukawa to offer him a hand and slowly lower him back to the ground. Admittedly, it’s hard to walk through the blades of grass that come up past his hip, but the earth around the pond is bare so he heads towards it. 

Bokuto and Kuroo – Matsukawa’s familiars – are a rare white Eurasian Eagle Owl with grey streaks and black flecks, and a black cat with rusty patches that look like someone dropped a paintbrush on the poor cat. It’s just his unusual splatter pattern, that’s all. They work in tandem to chase away the midges and other unsuspecting beetles that may interfere with the ceremony. All that remains is Matsukawa, Bokuto, Kuroo, Oikawa, Hanamaki, Suga, and Terushima. 

And the moon is high in the sky, its reflection a pure white orb on the surface of the pond, still and unbroken.

“Ready to find out some secrets?” There’s no verbal answer as Matsukawa kneels on the ground and places his hands flat against the water’s surface. He pours energy through it, connecting with the essence of nature and kindly requesting it to listen to his whim, whilst his friends were busy. The water complies, rippling outwards from the centre of the pond, and the shiny disk in the middle. It distorts the perfect circle of the moon, but not the ripples that rise up. The sides facing in towards the centre are bright and white like the moon itself, almost shining. The sides that race towards the edge of the pond are dark and shadowed - a representation of the secrets they hide.

Oikawa and Hanamaki take identical breaths in before they fly in a spiral, opposite each other at all times and leaving a trial of magic behind each of them in ribbons that intertwine in a double helix. Hanamaki’s magic is a dark grey with streaks of white that peel away like bark off a tree struck with lightning. This is moon magic, the rarest of all fairy magic and a nuisance to master. But with Oikawa’s help in history and literature, Hanamaki has become quite adept at understanding and using his magic.

Oikawa’s magic is life, a vibrant harlequin green that glitters with gold and silver that burst like fireworks within his ribbon of green, raining down fragments on the ground and water below. The foliage around the pond grows steadily, gaining strength and colour. The pond, however, begins to glow. The reflection of the moon in the centre stretches outwards until it fills the whole pond and the golden glitters of Oikawa’s magic lie on the surface in a perfect spiral. The fairies get higher and higher, closer and closer, until they are dancing with the bodies pressed together. Whilst it is comfortable and willing, the main reason they are pressed so close is _instinct_. Something is telling them to do this. This is the right way. This will unlock the secret that no fairy has ever accomplished before. 

All of a sudden, they break away. The ceremony is complete. Matsukawa takes his hands away from the surface of the water as the fairies land on his shoulders once more – thoroughly exhausted – and they watch as the ripples in the pond continue to strengthen. The outer edge is now gold and the inner edge is silver, as there is no dark or light side. The moon takes up the whole pond, thanks to the inclusion of Hanamaki’s rare magic.

It all goes dark. For a moment, the three and their animal friends are frozen in silence, fearful that something went wrong. Before Oikawa can whine, complain, or throw a fit, the pond erupts in a burst of water and colour and beads of rainbow droplets rise to Matsukawa’s waist height to form a... A pathway? 

“Follow it, Mattsun!” Rolling his eyes, Matsukawa obeys the fairy prince out of nothing more than respect. The rainbow droplets are suspended in the air, and as Matsukawa follows the trail, the beads drop to the ground like they were raindrops frozen for only a moment. The droplets are large enough for a fairy to jump on, so Hanamaki glides down from Matsukawa’s shoulder and takes the lead, hopping from one drop to the next with each flutter of his wings. He times it so that he takes off just as the droplet is about to fall, making it appear like he is the one causing them to descend to the earth. 

In the darkness of night with little more than the moons glow, these droplets look like glowing orbs of crystal, black like a shadow yet glowing with iridescence. Hanamaki glances over his shoulder to see Matsukawa, Oikawa and their companions silhouetted, and he almost laughs because the shadow of all of them together looks like parrot with a monkey head. The only reason he doesn’t laugh is because the droplet he’s standing on falls and Hanamaki follows it down with a shriek. It’s Tooru who laughs instead, bursting into hideous guffaws that sound like a fruit fly going backwards. Hanamaki narrows his eyes into a glare when Matsukawa tries to hold back a snicker.

“Oh ha-ha, very funny. Go ahead and laugh.” With permission, the witch breaks into a warm chuckle. Kuroo the cat yowls in amusement and Bokuto hoots along. Terushima doesn’t make a noise, but he does a flip which is essentially the largest insult he can give. Suga, bless his hummingbird heart, moves behind Hanamaki and uses his long beak to assist the fairy to his feet. 

“Thanks, Suga. Good to see _one_ of my friends cares about my health and wellbeing.”

“You said we could laugh!”

“Yeah, but-... Okay, fair enough.” Brushing himself off, Hanamaki flies back up to the droplets and dances off them again. They lead to the edge of a dark forest, and the fairies hesitate. Bokuto and Kuroo – with their ability to see in the dark – continue on without hesitation. 

“What’s wrong?”

“We can’t go in, Mattsun. Teru-chan gets sleepy in the dark and Suga-chan is scared.” Suga squeaks indignantly and flies forth into the darkness. Hanamaki looks at Oikawa accusingly.

“Are you sure **he’s** the one scared of the dark?” Oikawa looks away with a guilty pout. Hanamaki rolls his eyes and points to where Terushima is buzzing around in a beam of moonlight.

“Watch my bee. We’ll _bee_ back soon~.” Matsukawa side-glance’s the Peony fairy with a smirk.

“That _stings_ , Hanamaki.”

“It wasn’t for you, _buzz_ off.” Oikawa covers his ears and fakes out a sob.

“Make it stop! Please! I’ll stay here and watch Teru-chan, just please stop with the puns!” Matsukawa holds up his pink finger and Hanamaki smacks his palm against it in a high-five. Sure, Oikawa might be sulking, but it sure is fun to tease him. 

“Stay right here. Be safe, we’ll be back as soon as we find out the secret.” Oikawa looks up with watery eyes and a sniffle. 

“B-But I want to see the secret... M’just scared...” Matsukawa sighs with a hint of a groan and crouches down, tugging at the tiny pocket on his chest.

“Get in, you wimp.” Oikawa wipes away his pitifully large tears and flutters up into Matsukawa’s pocket.

“Thank you, Mattsun.” Hanamaki pays no attention to their little exchange, instead marching over to Terushima and tugging on the stirrup to get the hyperactive bee to stop flying around in circles.

“Listen here, you obese hoverfly. You are to stay here. Exactly _here_. Don’t go anywhere else, don’t get eaten, and don’t you dare die.” Terushima bumbles forwards and knocks Hanamaki over, which translates to reluctant obedience. A little worried for his friend, Hanamaki keeps looking over his shoulder at the bumblebee as he follows Matsukawa further into the forest. The droplets are still suspended in the air, and Suga zips around them like an obstacle course, whilst Kuroo bats a paw at them as they fall, attempting to catch each one. Up ahead, Bokuto hoots wildly. He’s found something.

“Mattsun, quickly! It must be the secret!” The witch breaks into a run, Hanamaki grabbing onto his shoelace as to not get left behind, and the droplets fall at the speed of rain, soaking poor Kuroo below. He hisses angrily but shakes the moisture off and chases after his witch with puffed up fur. They reach a clearing.

A clearing that should be – is _usually_ \- empty. Except it’s not. The droplets form a circle around a heaped body in the middle, spiralling down until the last one hovers just above its nose. It’s a boy, Hanamaki realises, slumped on the ground like he collapsed on his front and fell into a deep sleep.

“I- I think it’s a witch like you, Mattsun.” Matsukawa’s thick brows tug together in a frown, expression perplexed. 

“I don’t think so. I can’t sense _any_ magical energy coming from him.”

“No magic?! Is that even possible?!” Hanamaki tiptoes closer to the body – the boy – cautiously, barely listening to Matsukawa and Oikawa in the background. Until one word catches his attention. He whirls around to them with shock, matching surprise and apprehension on their own faces.

“What do you mean you think he’s _**human**_?! Humans are extinct! The- The last human was expelled from this world almost 50 decades ago. We only know of them as myths and legends in the oldest books in the library!” Oikawa bravely descends from Matsukawa’s pocket with gently fluttering wings, waving away a worried Suga who tries to keep him from going too close to this... This ‘human’. He’s probably just being a little paranoid about the safety of the prince, however, since both Kuroo and Bokuto seem perfectly content around the boy. Hanamaki trusts their judge of character as he reaches out and places a hand just a millimetre from the boy’s face. 

He channels his magic through his fingertips, summoning a soft greyish glow to illuminate the face of this mysterious being. The angles of his face cast shadows across skin that Hanamaki notices is much darker than his, and a little darker that Matsukawa’s. He has eyelashes to rival Oikawa and cute little creases around the corners of his mouth from where he’s obviously smiled a lot. There are also furrows around his eyebrows where he must have _frowned_ a lot too, so Hanamaki reckons this boy is a very expressive person. The longer he studies this ‘human’, the more he notices tiny sunspots across his skin, little freckles that wouldn’t be noticeable at first. He moves backwards to get a larger picture, and instantly stops breathing.

Bright green eyes with flecks of brown are staring straight at him, wide with a mixture of awe and fright.


	2. Camilla

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three hours before the fairies performed their ceremony, Iwaizumi was supposed to be studying.  
> One thing's for certain. He can completely, sarcastically and unironically say "Thanks, Daichi."

Iwaizumi Hajime only agrees to go outside and play with his friends because he’s struggling to solve the equations on his homework. It’s a sunny day, which he’s grateful for, but he still grumbles as he’s dragged out of his air conditioned homes and into the streets. He lives in a quiet village on the edge of a forest, a farming community with many children his age and a couple younger. It’s a home where everyone knows everyone else, and Iwaizumi is the first one to be leaving for university in a big city, in just a few months. Most residents – including his best friend, Daichi – stay behind for a life on the farm and field, living off the land and the produce they sell. It’s peaceful, Iwaizumi will admit, but he has bigger plans that involve a medical degree.

“Iwaizumi, hurry up!” He rolls his eyes as he steps out of his window on the second floor, reaching for a rope a little bit of a stretch away. He wraps his hands around it, tugging just to make sure it hasn’t frayed, (he made that mistake once before), before abseiling down to where Daichi was waiting. 

“Remember what happened last time you rushed me?” Daichi gives a boyish grin as Iwaizumi lightly punches his shoulder in typically gruff greeting.

“You had such a bad concussion, you told me all your deepest darkest secrets in the back of an ambulance. Very amusing. Futakuchi still has it recorded.” The expression of shock that appears on Iwaizumi’s face is enough to make Daichi bellow with warm laughter, a deep and rich sound that captured hearts and eased pain. 

“I’m joking, Iwaizumi. But he _is_ waiting in the forest with the kids. Ready for a good game of capture the flag?”

“Sure. You ready to get your ass kicked?”

“Oh, you wish. _I’m_ picking the teams this time.” Bickering and lightly pushing at each other as good friends do, they make their ways to the edge of the forest. Futakuchi, Inuoka, Shibayama, Yamaguchi, Noya, Tanaka, Hinata, and Hinata’s little sister are already playing at the forests edge. It’s just a small game of stuck-in-the-mud, making their running dramatic and slow to give Natsu a fair chance when she’s the tagger. As they approach, Daichi claps his hands to draw everyone’s attention. 

“Iwa-nii!” Natsu giggles and runs over with open arms, making Iwaizumi laugh warmly as he crouches down and sweeps her up into his arms. Her outfit today is a princess of some kind, though Iwaizumi doesn’t recognise it.

“Well, hello there, little princess~.” She shakes her head energetically, almost throwing herself out of balance in Iwaizumi’s arms. Luckily, he has a steady grip. Natsu points to the back of her costume, a green ball gown with butterfly wings attached on the back. It’s a new addition, one that Hinata must have made for her.

“I’m not a princess, I’m a fairy Queen!”

“Wow, that’s amazing, your majesty!” Natsu giggles and pats Iwaizumi’s cheeks playfully.

“There, I used my fairy magic to make the ouchie go away!” At that, Iwaizumi’s smile falters for just a second. On his chest, just above the neckline of his tank top, he has a large scar that looks like he was hit with a ball of plasma that exploded and tingled outwards in lightning bolt patterns. 

Some days, it’s still painful enough that he can barely get out of bed or breathe properly. Daichi has proposed it has something to do with the lunar phrase, considering there’s apparently a pattern between his worst days and the full moon. 

Iwaizumi dismissed the notion pretty quickly, but as time passes and he’s no closer to figuring out where it came from or why it randomly hurts, he finds himself _considering_ Daichi’s idea. Tonight doesn’t seem to fit the pattern though, because he knows it’s a full moon and yet he’s here with the others instead of confined to his bed.

“Iwa-nii?” He realises he somewhat phased out for a minute and shakes himself back to reality at Natsu’s worried little voice. He smiles kindly at her, placing her back on the ground and ruffling her hair.

“Thank you, fairy Queen. I feel much better now.” Natsu beams and runs off back to her brother as Daichi comes over to Iwaizumi once more. Apparently, he’s been planning something. Iwaizumi can tell from the self-satisfied smirk he wears on his face. Folding his arms, he raises an eyebrow in question.

“What have you done this time?”

“So... You know that one time we all wanted to camp in the forest overnight, but it started to rain...?”

“... Daichi, you _didn’t_.” He nods gravely, as if this is a most serious matter instead of talk about camping in the forest.

“I did. We have permission from all our parents, and everything is set up in the clearing by eagle log.” Eagle log is the oldest tree in the forest, and exactly in the centre. 

At a point so far back in history that there is no written record, the forest of this area – spanning almost 10 times the area it did today – burnt to a crisp as a result of a drought, heat wave, and poorly placed dry straw. The entire forest burnt to the ground, except for this one tree. The legend told of a teenage boy who had planted it in memory of his mother, and when the fire broke out, he ran to protect the tree with nothing more than two buckets of water.

He died in the flames, charred to nothing more than ash. Yet the tree stood with its bark marred and patchy, and its leaves singed but a shade of green on the ends of the branches. In a patch where all the bark had fallen from, there was a swirl of burnt wood in the shape of an eagle in flight. The name of the teenager who had perished was never passed down, but it was foretold that he had become the eagle trapped in the tree, and he would one day be freed when shown the same kindness and dedication he gave to his mother.

“It _had_ to be Eagle log.”

“It’s the only clearing large enough to fit all 10 of us, Iwaizumi. I know it makes you uneasy, but we’ll all be together so there’s nothing to fear.” Reaching up to his neckline, Iwaizumi traces a bolt down to the main marred pattern on his chest, biting into his bottom lip and internally fretting. He doesn’t speak his mind, however, instead following Daichi’s steady back as the younger leads the way into the forest. 

Iwaizumi doesn’t really have a choice. He and Daichi are the two oldest, and even though Noya is close to them in age, none of the parents will allow their children out en mass without both Daichi and Iwaizumi. 

He reckons it has something to do with how responsible they’re perceived to be, and hopes some of the younger ones follow in his and Daichi’s footsteps. He has great hope for Yamaguchi and Shibayama. Although nervous, they already show a great talent for keeping Inuoka, Hinata, and Tanaka in line. Futakuchi is too devious and snarky to tame, whereas Noya is trouble personified. Natsu, on the other hand, is a sweet little girl that needs less watching over than her senpai.

“Daichi, hold up.” They’re getting close to Eagle Log. But not close enough that Iwaizumi can make the whole journey, as the scar on his chest suddenly pounds and knocks the breath out of his lungs. Daichi glances back from the front of the group with worry, dropping back to join Iwaizumi whilst Yamaguchi marches the others on to the campsite. 

“Iwaizumi? I thought it was okay today...”

“It was, until just now.” Looking up at the sky, they can see it’s started to shift into twilight hours, the first few stars making their appearance and bright blue fading to navy. Most importantly, the full moon peeks through the leaves of the forest canopy, bright and round and _full_.

“Maybe we should get you back... Just in case.”

“No! No, I mean... I’m tired of letting this thing rule my life. We’re gonna have fun tonight, so let’s just- just forget about my scar, okay?” Daichi doesn’t look too pleased, but in the end, he nods because he can’t think of a polite way to send Iwaizumi back on his own. Still, he’s careful to keep an eye on Iwaizumi, the way he grits his teeth every now and then, or hunches over as he walks, or pauses against a tree to catch his breath.

“I really don’t think this is a good idea...”

“It’s fine. You said the camp is already set up, right?”

“Yes?”

“Then I’ll rest for a bit when we get there, and everything will be okay.”

“I’m dubious, but okay.” By the time Eagle Log comes into view, surrounded by green tents, Iwaizumi is having to lean against Daichi for support. His entire chest feels like it’s on _fire_ , pounding heavily and constricted. Daichi practically drags him into one of the tents for some privacy, grabbing a water bottle and pushing Iwaizumi’s shirt off to slowly trickle the cool water over the scar. They have no idea why, but when it’s painful, it gets really hot to touch.

“I-I’m sorry for ruining our camping trip... A-Again...”

“Shh. You never ruined it first time round, that was the weather. Besides, we care more about you than some games. Hide and seek can wait until your health is back on track.” Iwaizumi huffs out a laugh before grimacing against a particularly strong pulse that radiates out from his scar. It feels like energy is trickling through his veins and electrocuting the cells. His body jolts at the feeling, fingernails digging into the dirt to try and hold himself down as he twitches and shakes.

“Hinata! You’re the fastest, run and get the doctor! Futakuchi, get in here and help me hold him down! He’s having a seizure!” There’s a flurry that Iwaizumi makes out to be the tent material flapping open and then there’s another set of hands holding him down. He peels open his eyes to look out the hatch of the tent, which is being held opened by concerned friends, and catches a glimpse of solid light on one of the bare branches of Eagle log.

“W-White Eagle-!” Yamaguchi is closest to where he’s looking and glances over his shoulder in confusion.

“There’s... Nothing there...” Iwaizumi doesn’t understand why he’s saying that. He doesn’t understand why nobody else can see it. There’s a white eagle, right there on the branch, with the full moon behind it as it spreads its wings and takes to the sky. As it rises, Iwaizumi feels like he’s being tugged in the same direction, like he has to follow it. He makes to get up, but firm hands are holding him down from both sides. The eagle watches him with a stern gaze, before it vanishes in a blink of light.

Just like that, it’s as if madness has left him and Iwaizumi blinks back into coherency. He’s reaching out towards where the eagle was, fighting against Daichi and Futakuchi as they wrestled him down. Coherent once more, he’s aware that his chest has – strangely – stopped hurting. He lies back against the sleeping bag as Futakuchi and Daichi breath out audible relief, letting him go. There are now four red handprints around his upper arms, but Iwaizumi doesn’t mind so much. 

“I- I’m sorry.” Futakuchi claps a rough hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t scare us like that again, bud! I think an ambulance would have trouble getting through the trees!”

“Futakuchi.” Daichi shakes his head disapprovingly, like a father, and Iwaizumi restrains a chuckle at the cheekily defiant grin on Futakuchi’s face. He eyes sweep over the tent entrance and he gives a weakly reassuring smile to Yamaguchi, Inuoka, and Shibayama.

“Sorry I scared you.” The three exchange glances, and Inuoka becomes their voice.

“We were more worried than anything. Natsu thought you were _dying_.”

“Where is Natsu?! Wh- Where are Tanaka and Noya?”

“All in the same place, man. They took her for a walk when you started freaking out.” Iwaizumi sighs heavily and sinks into the soft material beneath him. He’s suddenly grateful for the “troublesome two” being present. Usually, they gave him a headache and tested his patience - as much as they were amazing friends, they never _stopped_ \- but he feels a sincere need to thank them for stopping Natsu seeing him in this condition. Daichi pats his shoulder, a little gentler than Futakuchi had before.

“The doctor will be here shortly, rest up until then. I think it’s best that one of us sits with you.”

“I- I’ll do it.” Futakuchi moves aside to let Shibayama wriggle his way in to the two-person tent, which is starting to get a bit crowded. As the son of the doctor Hinata was sent to retrieve, Shibayama probably has more experience in picking up signs of discomfort or sickness. Or, in Iwaizumi’s case, an oncoming seizure. He has to admit, it’s the first time his scar has reacted bad enough to make him hallucinate and go into a fit, and it’s _terrifying_.

“Thanks, Shibayama. I think I’ll be okay for a while though. Go and play with the others.” The boy looks conflicted for a moment, but then shakes his head strongly.

“Not until my dad gives you the all-clear!” Daichi chuckles from where he’s exiting the tent and rolling the flaps back to get some fresh air into the small area.

“Nice try, Iwaizumi, but as Shibayama said, we’re not leaving you on your own until you’re cleared for health. That scared us too, y’know.” With a stubborn huff, Iwaizumi folds his arms over his chest and closes his eyes. The seizure must have taken a hell of a lot out of him, because he falls asleep within minutes.

_“Iwaizumi Hajime.” The bright light from earlier has returned. Except, he’s not in the forest any more. He’s in a scorched wasteland, where nothing remains but a single tree. Iwaizumi looks around frantically at his surroundings before gasping._

__“I’m in the legend of Eagle tree!” _A spark of amusement pulsates from the bright light, which he realises is vaguely bird shaped. The eagle from earlier. As he squints into the light, it fades from blinding white to a softer lilac, and begins to shift shape. In front of two fallen, empty pails of what was once water, stands a boy taller than Iwaizumi with hazel-brown eyes and short hair to match._

__“You’re... The boy from the legend. The one who tried to save the tree.” _The once-eagle nods, and his glow fades. He stands in front of Iwaizumi as a solid human, looking no different from any other villager except for the time period of his clothes._

__“I am Ushijima Wakatoshi. You, Iwaizumi, are destined for great things.” _Iwaizumi’s brow furrows and pinches together._

__“Great things? What do you mean?” _Ushijima’s lips twitch upwards into a faint smile that Iwaizumi feels is rare, and outstretches a hand to Iwaizumi’s chest. He pokes the very centre of the scar. But instead of producing a pang of irritation like when his clothes brushed against it, or someone accidentally touches it, Ushijima makes it pulse in a gentle way. Then, it begins to glow._

__“What’s happening?! What did you do!?” _Ushijima tilts his head to the side with pure and honest confusion._

__“I am helping you start your journey. Please do not be angry, I need you to trust me.”

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” _The glowing scar peels itself from Iwaizumi’s chest, leaving behind nothing more than slightly pinker skin, lighter than his own tan, and a few rough edges. The glowing scar – which is now completely separate from him – is soft around the edges and far more circular than he imagined. Within the light, he can see fainter lines carving out curved lines, like- like petals... Ushijima has a twinkle in his eye like he knows many things that Iwaizumi doesn’t._

__“Camellia. Often used in sacred ceremonies. It symbolises the divine and represents the coming of Spring.”

“But- But what does it mean for me? Why was it in my scar? I- I don’t even know where the scar came from!” _Ushijima lays his palm flat and the flower lands in his hand, twirling around on a small silver beam of light. With a sudden urgency, Ushijima looks up at Iwaizumi, extremely serious._

“It has begun. Hurry, you must wake and accept my calling!” _Iwaizumi stumbles as the ground seems to stretch, lengthening the distance between him and Ushijima._

__“W-Wait? What do you mean!?” _He doesn’t get the chance to ask as everything stretches out into oblivion._

Iwaizumi bolts up in his sleeping bag with sweat clinging to his forehead and a chill tingling his skin. The first thing he does is catch his breath. Secondly, because the night is cold, he grabs the shirt that was removed earlier and tugs it on. It’s only once his head is through the neckhole he realises something is amiss. 

His scar. 

The rough lightning bolts are still in place, but there’s a massive part missing. A part that- that forms the shape of a flower... Iwaizumi experimentally slaps his chest a couple of times in increasing strength, until he hears someone next to him snore deeply and realises he’s not alone. He’s about to lie down and sleep once more when he feels that strange tug in his chest again, like he has to follow a trail. 

Iwaizumi undoes the tent flap as quietly as possible, edging his way out into the clearing. And instantly gasps. It’s bathed in moonlight, but that’s not the only thing. Green shoots of new growth break though the forest floor, and the closer to Eagle log it gets, the more grown the buds are. On the tree, directly over the ingrained Eagle, is a fully blossomed camellia. 

“Am... Am I still dreaming...?” He steps over to the tree, careful not to squash the growing stems. He stares around the creeping vines and the buds before the bloomed flower seems to glitter, like rainbow drops of dew were dripping from its petals. Out of curiosity, confusion, and a little bit of sleep deprivation, Iwaizumi reaches out and strokes a finger along the silky smooth outer petals, before attempting to poke the centre of the camellia. 

Everything is blindingly bright for a few seconds, and then it goes dark as he blacks out. All he remembers is the sensation of falling, and then soft grass against his cheek. Maybe, _possibly_ , it was just a dream. 

When that thought enters his head, and convinced that his friends dragged him out the tent as a joke, Iwaizumi peels open his eyes. He sees green grass firstly, and then-

Something pink and blue and _tiny_ in front of his face, slightly glowing, with feathery wings, and staring right back with an expression that he’s sure matches his own, a mixture of surprise, confusion, and disbelief.

“You’re... A fairy...?”


	3. Complications and ~feelings~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of blood; injury.  
> A lot of mention.

_“You’re... A fairy...?”_ Hanamaki fluttered a little further away at the brush of warm air coming from the boy’s mouth. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but there was an undertone of morning breath. Folding his arms, the peony fairy let his charisma take over.

“Well, I sure hope so, or I’ve been lied to my entire life. What about you? Are you really a human?” Pushing himself up from the ground, the boy rubs at the side of his head before nodding. Hanamaki breathes out in awe.

“That’s amazing... You’re the first human here in centuries.” The boy’s jaw drops, stammering as he tries to form words. Oikawa seems to be staring at him with the same wordless sense of awe, before the boy bursts into a cry and hunches over, gripping at his chest.

“H-hey! You okay?!” Hanamaki is too small to help, but Matsukawa is slightly taller than the human and crouches down to rub his back, gently pushing him backwards to sit up straight. Kuroo meows and winds himself around human legs as Bokuto screeches from the trees above.

“You two, Shh. Let me check something here...” He runs a hand along the boy’s back and arms with a frown of contemplation, before he gets to the chest area, nudging a tan hand away. His eyebrows rocket up to his hairline and he pulls his fingers away, wet and sticky with blood.

“Oh shi-. Hey, what’s your name? Can you tell me your name?” Hanamaki and Oikawa look on baffled as Matsukawa low-key panics, gently guiding the boy to lie on his back in the grass, trying to pry him away from curling in on himself, covering up his chest.

“I-I don’t know.... I don’t know! I can’t r-remember!” He’s clearly in a lot of pain, and the gasping breaths he takes between each word is an indication of how overwhelmed he is. Oikawa’s face hardens in determination and his pretty silken wings vibrate rapidly as he glides over to the boy, placing both hands on his cheek. The boy darts to look at him, eyes focused scarily on Oikawa yet not fully comprehending at the same time.

“Close your eyes. I want you to picture something. Anything, the first thing that comes to mind. What is it?” Harlequin green magic glows underneath Oikawa’s hands and starts to spread along the boy’s skin with a soft glow. Almost instantly, he starts to relax, still panting and teeth gritted in pain, but no longer on the verge of hyperventilating. He closes his eyes.

“A- A rock... I see... A rock.” Oikawa pulls his life magic back into the centre of his hands and draws them away with a burst of golden sparks that shine as bright as his smile.

“Iwa-chan!” When Iwa’s eyes slide over to Oikawa again, flecks of lighter green swim amongst the hazel like stars in the forest, and he acknowledges the ‘retrieval’ of his name with a small nod. His back suddenly arches off the floor with a cloaked scream, caught in his throat and trapped between clenched jaws. Matsukawa shushes him with an air of sympathy, but doesn’t stop trying to peel the shirt from Iwa’s chest. In the dim light, he can’t see what’s making it stick, but he already knows from the blood his fingers found. The only problem now is trying to find the source.

“Bokuto, I need you to pull some branches aside to let the moonlight through. Kuroo, find some quartz crystals. Hanamaki, can you do me a huge favour?” The peony fairy tilts his head, thinks, and then nods. Matsukawa doesn’t need to say anything. They’re both smart and think scarily similar, one of the aspects that makes their friendship so strong. Feathery wings stretch out and beat against the air as Hanamaki lifts himself higher and higher, until he hovers in the space Bokuto has created between the trees. 

Exhaling slowly, Hanamaki raises his arms and cups them, as if to hold the moon. At least, that what it looks like from where Iwa looks up, confused and stunned. The pink markings on Hanamaki’s face dilute with colour until they become a dove grey and the magic stretches along his veins, bleeding through his skin like ink until even his feather are the same shade as the moon, freckled with the darkness of craters. He feels the tendrils of moon magic wrap around his shoulders in a motherly hug, and hears her song resonate in his heart and soul. Hanamaki sings with her in his mind, creating a bond that is unbreakable and understanding. The beam of moonlight that already partially lit up the clearing strengthens and intensifies until it is like a grey version of glowing embers, bouncing off the quartz crystals Kuroo has placed around, bringing everything and every _one_ into clear lighting.

“Beautiful...” All this time, Iwa has watched the fairy gathering energy, before shining bright as a star and directing the moon magic to bring Iwa’s little spot in the grass into daytime lighting. His awestruck mumble goes unheard beneath Matsukawa’s sharp gasp.

“By the love of The Great _Wiccan_ , this is bad.” Blood pools over Iwa’s chest, stray droplets gliding over his skin and down his sides. There’s too much to see where it pools from, so – with a little bit of guilt – Matsukawa uses the shirt to pat gently at the puddle, soaking up the blood. By the time it’s clear enough to make out a pattern underneath, the shirt is so drenched; it could have been maroon from the very start. Tiny beadlets of blood remain on Iwaizumi’s chest, seeping through from thin but deep cuts right in the centre of his scar. His scar, which was no longer just an empty patch of pink, stretched skin. 

His skin has taken the shape of petals, the image carved into his chest as if made by a scalpel, or a littering of paper cuts. Biting his lips, Matsukawa admits to himself that he cannot heal this. He doesn’t think Oikawa can either. In fact, he knows it would be a fruitless effort. Oikawa clambers up to Matsukawa’s shoulder to get a view from above, eyes widening and soft gasp escaping.

“A birth-line curse! I haven’t seen one of those except for in _books_!” 

“That’s because they died out with the last of the Aeon. Disrupting the planes of existence to keep a balance... And bringing back a curse not seen in thousands of years... There’s no other explanation. An Aeon must remain, somewhere.”

“Mattsun... Could the birth-line be related to the Aeon itself?” Matsukawa shakes his head in disbelief. An Aeon...? Related to a human? Cursing it’s _own_ bloodline? Impossible. And yet... Very possible indeed. He swallows down a lump in his throat.

“We- We have to find the flower to match this scar, or he’ll bleed out.” Oikawa flutters down to Iwa’s stomach, trying to figure it out.

“I don’t know what it is... It- It’s so _vague_. It could be Ranunculus, Dalia, chrysanthemum, or anything else. Off the top of my head, I can think of 30 different flowers that match this petal pattern.” The clearing starts to turn dark. Hanamaki slowly descends, his glow fading and the moon disappearing behind a cloud. As the cloud covers the last of the moonglow, Hanamaki falls. Branches above rustle as they spring back to their original position, Bokuto sweeping down to catch Hanamaki in one outstretched claw, hooting in a panic until Suga darts up to him and reassures him with a soft chirrup, moving into the perfect place for Bokuto to drop Hanamaki over his hummingbird saddle.

“Makki!”

“Hanamaki!” Suga flitters back to the ground with Hanamaki slung over his back. Just as Oikawa is about to check for a pulse, Hanamaki groans and staggers to his feet, not protesting the wing Suga stretches out for him to balance against.

“Th-Thanks, Suga... Ow...”

“Makki, what happened?!” He lets out a garbled sound of pain as Oikawa grabs his shoulders and shakes him.

“Oikawa! Stop! I’m fine! I can’t explain when you’re rattling my head!” 

“Oh. Sorry!” Oikawa pulls back with a cheeky wink, tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth as he rubs the back of his head sheepishly. Hanamaki raises a thin eyebrow in exasperation, but then slowly shakes his head. His shoulders flinch and he brings a hand to his chest.

“I felt it.”

“Huh?”

“I felt Iwa’s scar – his pain, and his curse. That- That’s no ordinary Aeon curse. That’s _moon magic_. I connected with it, Oikawa.” 

“You mean to tell me... More than just a curse created by an extinct god-tier mythical creature, it’s also the rarest magic of all time? Makki, if that’s the case, then... Then Iwa-chan came to us for a reason.” Hanamaki pauses and thinks.

“The ceremony. It needed moon magic on the night of a full moon, and _life_ magic, which I presume is to do with flowers. The water... I’m not sure where that comes into it yet, but doesn’t this seem too much to be coincidental? What if... What if the original Aeon of the bloodline curse was the one who created the ceremony? We know they can transcend time and space, so what if it brought Iwa here for a _reason_?”

“... Oh my gosh.” Oikawa drops to sit on the floor. It’s a lot to take in, and it’s starting to hurt his head a little. Or a lot. Matsukawa clicks his tongue over at them.

“Oi! I can’t do this alone! We _need_ that flower!” 

“We don’t even know what it is!” Oikawa snaps back, the purple sigils on his cheeks raging violet for a few seconds. His anger is cut off by a sharp gasp from the human, from this ‘Iwa’, who they’ve never met before but already feel so connected to.

“C-Camellia.” All eyes snap to him, and for a moment, there’s silence. Then, Oikawa snaps into action.

“Suga, go and find a camellia bud! Kuroo, help me dig a hole to plant it in! Bokuto, look after Suga, don’t let him get eaten by bigger, scarier things! Makki, take a rest. You’ve earned it.” At the words of the fairy prince, Hanamaki slumps to the floor, the two birds take to the skies, and Kuroo starts to scratch at the ground near Oikawa, who starts to tug blades of grass out the way. Matsukawa is too busy trying to staunch the flow of blood, having moved on to using his own witch’s cape to press down on, the useless shirt thrown aside.

“I don’t know how long he can last... Coming from a different plane of existence... All that stress probably caused this injury as well as his partial memory loss. I just- I just hope we can help him through this.”

“We’ll do it, Mattsun. If he makes it through this, he should survive here just fine.” Matsukawa nods and breathes out steadily, not noticing Hanamaki creeping up next to him, using Matsukawa’s crossed leg to hide behind until he clambers up onto it. He notices firstly how _pale_ Iwa looks, despite his tan complexion when he first awoke. There are large dark circles under his eyes that were not there before, and what was once frown/smile creases are now deep wrinkles. He’s literally aging right in front of them as he bleeds out.

“... We did something wrong... The ceremony- We must have, we must have done it too quickly or started too soon.”

“What do you mean...?”

“I don’t think he absorbed Oikawa’s life magic enough to- to stabilize in our world. And maybe if my moon magic had been strong, this wound wouldn’t have opened...” Matsukawa stares at him in sympathy, and gently rubs his back – mindful of his wings – with his little finger.

“Hey, don’t blame yourself, okay...? He’ll make it. I can’t feel any magic in his body, but... He’s strong. I can tell.” Kuroo looks up from digging to meow in agreement. Hanamaki’s lips twitch up a little and the feathers of his wings unfurl from where they’ve protectively curled around himself.

“Thanks, Kuroo, Matsukawa~.” They descend into silence, listening to the shallow breaths Iwa takes as he struggles against blood loss and exhaustion. At some point, Hanamaki finds himself standing just beside Iwa’s head and running his whole arm over Iwa’s forehead, which only brushes part of his fringe back, but the motion seems to relax Iwa, so he continues on until they hear the screech of an owl in the distance. Matsukawa sags with relief.

“They’ve got the camellia.”

“Huh? How can you tell?”

“Ah. I forgot to tell you. Bokuto and I completed the Familiars Contract a couple of days ago. Now, I can understand him like Kuroo.” Hanamaki makes a small sound of interest before Iwa groans in pain, and he go ack to repeating his arm-sweeping motion. Bokuto and Suga soar back into the clearing; the bee hummingbird dropping the camellia into Oikawa’s waiting hands. It’s a beautiful specimen, with perfectly rounded petals and flecks of red across the pink. He lowers the bud into the ground, stepping back for Kuroo to bury it once more. Golden veins appear in the earth as Oikawa’s entire body glows with magic, the bud sprouting above ground and opening into a pure, symmetric flower. With no more than a couple of waves of his hands, Oikawa guides the flower over to Matsukawa.

Taking in a deep breath, Matsukawa lowers the flower to Iwa’s chest, centring it perfectly. He closes his eyes, and crosses one hand atop the other, hovering over the flower. As his hands tingle with warmth and his nails turn white with the use of good magic, the petals start to peel backwards layer by layer until they’ve completely blended into Iwa’s skin. All the remains is the centre, which without reason or means, wraps itself up into a bud once more and refuses to disappear. Matsukawa understands. 

The bud is now a part of Iwa, just as much as any other limb or part of his body. It’s there, and it’s going to stay. The young witch can’t tell what’s going to happen to it, or if it will grow like a normal flower, but something tells him the bud must urgently be protected. No harm must come to it, or all their magic would have been for nought. 

“O-Ow...” It takes a minute, but Iwa manages to sit up. Dazed and dizzy, he looks around at the creatures that crowd him. A hummingbird, an owl, a cat, two fairies, and a witch. It’s a bit busy, considering he likes his peace and quiet, but... He can’t help but feel like he’s come _home_. Something resonates in his heart and tells him these are good people he can depend upon. These are his friends. 

“Um... Hi?” The two fairies and the witch burst into relieved laughter, the hummingbird does a loop-de-loop, and the owl flaps its wings with loud hooting. The cat, sitting on Iwa’s lap with a sly grin, flicks its tail and then gently taps its paw against the new bud. The first thing Iwa does is try to pluck it.

“Ow, ow, ow! Not a good idea!” Kuroo swats at Iwa’s hand with a low meow, clearly chastising him. Iwa narrows his eyes at the cat, but his attention is quickly stolen by Oikawa fluttering on his hand.

“Yeah, you probably shouldn’t do that. It’s part of you now, Iwa-chan!” 

“My name’s not ‘Iwa-chan’, it’s Iwaizumi.”

“You remembered!” Iwaizumi tilts his head to the side, lips pursed in thought.

“Y-Yeah. I’m not sure how, but it suddenly... Came back to me.” Matsukawa humms in consideration as he glances at the flower bud. Could that possibly have been something to do with it? At the same time, Iwaizumi looks younger. He looks like he did when they first saw him lying there, before his chest erupted with pain. The flower has done its job, saving his life and solidating Iwaizumi in this realm. Still balanced on Iwaizumi’s hand, Oikawa puffs his chest out proudly.

“I’m Oikawa Tooru, Prince of the fairies and leader of this area.” Iwaizumi swallows with a slight expression of fear. He’s faced with _royalty_ , even if he is a species small enough to squash in the palm of his hand. Oikawa flips his hair back.

“Although, I don’t really care for all those ‘rules’ and manners and things. I just want to lead my people, not smother them in customs!” Hanamaki snorts from where he lies on the ground a good meter away, watched over by Suga and Bokuto in case anything decides to attack or hunt the fairy. It’s rare, but there are incidents of mythical sprites falling under a curse that compels them to consume flower fairies and tree fae. 

“You had it written that bakers are to create 12 batches of milk bread every week, and present it to you before the sun sets at the end of the seventh day.”

“Th-That was years ago, Makki!” 

“It’s still in writing, it still stands until you become King and waver it.” Oikawa whines, not even noticing the attention has completely diverted from him. Iwaizumi is looking – no, staring – at Hanamaki with wide eyes. He’s _breathless_ , completely enraptured by the rare moon peony fairy. The bud on his chest starts to open, just a little, the green leaves peeling back and revealing the white tip of a single petal. It would be completely unnoticeable, if one hadn’t watched it happen. If someone had told Matsukawa it had happened, he wouldn’t have believed them. But _seeing_ it was so different. 

“Hey, Hanamaki, come over here.” Groaning as he sits up, Hanamaki somehow manages to trundle to his feet. He staggers a little, but Suga is quick to dart around him and keep him on his feet. He almost falls over, and Iwaizumi’s other hand darts out for the fairy to fall into.

“Oof! Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, uh, Hanamaki, was it?” The fairy settles cross-legged in Iwaizumi’s hand, giving him a bright grin as he’s lifted to eye level with emeralds the shine with curiosity and awe.

“That’s my name!”

“ _Beautiful..._ ” The gentle whisper was probably supposed to go unheard, but the close proximity allows Hanamaki to hear it with ease and his cheeks flush a little.

“Uh, Uh, and that’s my friend, Matsukawa!” He makes jazz hands towards the witch in an attempt to lessen his embarrassment, but Iwaizumi chuckles under his breath at the extravagance before turning to Matsukawa, letting Hanamaki blush with only a snickering Oikawa to notice. Neither of them see the tiny protruding petal turn pink. Even Matsukawa only catches a glimpse before flicking his attention to Iwaizumi’s face again.

“Hey. I’m Matsukawa, as Hanamaki said. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too. I, uh, I would shake your hand, but they’re a little _preoccupied_.” He shoots a friendly glare at the two fairies, who just beam back with cheeky grins and tiny waves. Oikawa even throws in a peace sign. With a chuckle, Matsukawa gestures to his familiars. 

“There here are Kuroo and Bokuto. They’re assholes, but they’re also my friends. And they’re practically human, so make sure you don’t accidentally step on their tails or feathers; because they will do petty small things to make your life hell.”

“... Duly noted.” He notices the very pleased and proud look Bokuto boasts with a hoot, whilst Kuroo flicks his tail again and _smirks_. Iwaizumi feels a little... Threatened. Just a miniscule amount, but he can tell from looks alone that these are animals he doesn’t want to piss off.

“And this is Suga. He’s Oikawa’s friend/jockey/babysitter.”

“Hey!”

“What? He is.” Oikawa pouts and puffs his cheeks out, stomping one foot like a petulant child. Suga makes a soft chirruping sound that could be laughter before he flitters in front of Iwaizumi’s face, making green eyes cross over as they focus on the tiny bee hummingbird.

“Wow... I’ve never seen a bird like you before...” 

“He might be one a kind, with that colouring.” Iwaizumi breathes out with awe, and Hanamaki somehow understands what he wants, so he beats his feathery wings gently to glide over to Kuroo’s head instead, seating himself there. Gently, Iwaizumi reaches out with his pinky finger and brushes it against Suga’s downy chest feathers with eyes widening and a starstruck expression. 

“S-so soft...” Suga pips a tiny proud squeak and Iwaizumi _grins_ , a smile so beautiful that Hanamaki clutches at his heart and wonders if it’s stopped beating for a second, prompting Oikawa to snicker at him. The Prince is by no means oblivious. He can see exactly what’s going on here. Iwaizumi is Hanamaki’s perfect type, except in human form rather than fairy, and Iwaizumi is besotted with the beauty of the tiny peony fairy. There’s an attraction, if not an instantaneous crush, and Oikawa is determined to help it grow beyond species. 

Suddenly, Bokuto shoots up from his place on the ground and starts flapping his wings rapidly whilst screeching up a storm. Matsukawa blinks multiple times and makes a quiet hum of thought as he nods along to whatever Bokuto is causing a ruckus about.

“Yes... Yes... You have a point... I guess we could? Kuroo, do you agree?” The cat lets out a low meow, holding a paw up at an angle as if giving a thumbs up. Eagerly, Oikawa jumps up and down on Iwaizumi’s hands, transparent leafy wings making sure he landed in the same spot each time.

“What’d they say, Mattsun~?!” Matsukawa smiles slightly and props his chin up in both hands – ignoring the dried blood still on them.

“Well... Since Iwaizumi just _appeared_ here with nowhere to live... And seeing as my cabin is nearby... What do you think, Iwaizumi? Wanna come keep a witch and his familiars company?” Extremely thankful, Iwaizumi nods his head, relieved that he wasn’t just going to be abandoned to the forest or left in a strange, unknown world with no guidance. 

“That’d be a huge help, if you don’t mind the intrusion. Thank you.”

Waiting a few minutes until Iwaizumi regains full strength, they spend the time explaining the ceremony they performed, and how they brought Iwaizumi here. Iwaizumi too, goes into great detail to talk about the things he saw. Seeing his companions tense at the mention of the boy trapped in the log and the white eagle, Iwaizumi forgoes telling them Ushijima’s name. 

Once he is able to stand, albeit leaning heavily on Matsukawa, the little group makes their way back to the edge of the forest, where moonlight dims in west and dawn colours paint the east.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS. IS. GOING. TO BE A. HUGE. MULTI-CHAPTER. PROJECT.  
> And I might, at some point, turn it into MatsuHanaIwaOi.  
> Thoughts on that?


	4. A bee, see?

“B-Bee.” It’s the first time Hanamaki has heard anyone so feeble and wary around Terushima, and it actually makes him want to cry with laughter. Oikawa doesn’t bother to hide this desire and is lying on the ground cackling maniacally. Since arriving at the edge of the forest, Iwaizumi has literally dived behind Matsukawa and clung to his back, peering around his shoulder like a terrified fairy bud seeing raindrops for the first time. The size comparison, however, is massively different.

“Yes, that’s a bee.” Matsukawa huffs out in amusement, although Iwaizumi’s fingers dig into his shoulders with a strong and partially painful grip.

“Bee.” 

“We’ve established that.”

“Th- There’s a bee right there.” Hanamaki laughs at how this human’s voice quakes, considering Terushima is literally a blob of fluff and wing. According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way he should be able to fly. His wings are too small to get his fat little body off the ground. Terushima, however, flies anyway. Because bees don’t care what humans and fairies think is possible.

“Oh my god, it’s coming closer. It’s coming- Keep it away from me. Keep it away from me!” Iwaizumi ducks behind Matsukawa with a shriek as Terushima ‘bumbles’ his way up to eye level. He does a joyful and teasing little spin before attempting to move closer. Luckily for Iwaizumi, who seems _terrified_ at the pollen junkie, Hanamaki is on hand to stop him.

“Teru! Stop being a dingus and get back down here!” Terushima gives a low, unhappy buzz before he slowly ambles back to the ground. Then, impish as he is, he darts back up towards Iwaizumi faster than Hanamaki can stop him. The human squeaks and throws himself backwards; tripping over his heel and landing on the floor with eyes fixed wide on Terushima, as Matsukawa scowls and swats the bee away.

“Be nice. This is Iwaizumi, he’s a friend.” Terushima gives a loud, irritated buzz before bumbling back down to the floor so Hanamaki can get into the petal saddle, tugging lightly at a bunch of Terushima’s fluff to reprimand him. Matsukawa offers Iwaizumi a hand to pull him to his feet, still warily watching the bumblebee. Oikawa glides over on a breeze and lands on Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

“Sooo... Why are you so scared of bees, Iwa-chan?”

“I’m allergic.”

“Alert... Chick?”

“Allergic.” The fairy looks at him in pure and blatant confusion, hands held out flat to demand an explanation. Iwaizumi’s lips purse into a pout as he thinks, his eyes flickering to Terushima every now and then to make sure he wasn’t getting too close. Honestly, he would probably scale a tree if he thought Terushima wouldn’t reach him up there.

“It means that... Uh... I react really badly. If your _friend_ stings me, I’ll get really sick, swell up, and die.” The magical creatures stare at him with wide eyes, and Kuroo lets out a little ‘prrip’ of surprise. Iwaizumi raises one eyebrow.

“Have you never heard of allergies? Getting sick? Dying?” Matsukawa shakes his head and Oikawa fiddles with the bottom of his flower skirt, looking sadly at the floor.

“Humans are so _primitive_ , you poor things...”

“Hey!” Hanamaki hums in agreement from his place on the ground, keeping Terushima respectfully away.

“We don’t get sick or allergies. When we get old enough, we wilt into seedlings, and are re-hatched as new fairies. I’m not sure about witches.” He glances to Matsukawa who slyly smirks.

“We use a de-age spell. Unfortunately, it resets the memory as well. So it’s almost like reincarnation. I’m working on making it true reincarnation though. Should have it finished before I hit 40~.” The fairies look on at Matsukawa with jealousy, and something about the smug looks on Kuroo and Bokuto’s faces tells Iwaizumi that the familiars are reincarnated too. He doesn’t know how, but maybe that’s just the magic of this world.

“Calm down, calm down. I’ll use it on you too.”

“Yay, Mattsun~.”

“Thanks, but I’ll turn down that offer if Oikawa ruins our whole world when he’s king.” Oikawa whined, unheard beneath Bokuto’s loud hoot, Kuroo’s hearty meow, and Suga’s chirruping. Encouraged by the reaction to his own joke, Hanamaki laughed too, and Iwaizumi’s eyes half-lidded with softness at the beautiful sound, and even more so at how stunning Hanamaki was when he laughed. His eyes sparkled if they weren’t closed, his skin became aglow with joy, his hair bounced as he through his head back and his entirely _shook_ with so much happiness and purity and elation-

A sigh escapes Iwaizumi and he doesn’t notice Matsukawa raise a thick eyebrow amusingly in his direction, before blinking and staring at the bud. It- It’s still the same size as earlier, but the pink is richer, more vivid. There are speckles of silver too, shining in the moonlight. It almost looks like... No... Matsukawa flicks his gaze between Hanamaki and Iwaizumi, mouth dropping into a surprised ‘oh’. 

The tiny tip of petal peeking out is the same colour as Hanamaki’s hair and the aura only a witch can see, flecked with silver moonlight that represents Hanamaki’s magic. Iwaizumi’s flower is blooming with the colours of everything Hanamaki; and Matsukawa smiles softly when he sees them make eye-contact before averting gazes. It makes sense to him. Even though this is the first time meeting Iwaizumi, even though it’s only been an hour and a half since the ceremony, it feels like they’ve known him all their lives. It feels like he just slips right into their group with comfort and ease, like he’s always belonged.

“Let’s get going. I’d like to get back before the Akhlut come out.” Iwaizumi feels like he should know what that is, but it doesn’t stir any memories, not even of learning zoo animals in different languages.

“What’s an Akhlut?” He’s met with haunted stares, Kuroo fluffed up so much that his fur looks like he was electrocuted, and Bokuto’s wings raised like he’s puffing up for a fight. Suga ducks behind Oikawa, although it doesn’t prove much cover, and Terushima gives a low, fearful drone. With a heavy sigh – conditioned to the Akhlut activity – Matsukawa crosses his arms and answers in a warning tone.

“Trust me. You _don’t_ want to find out.” Iwaizumi swallows down a lump in his throat and nods, automatically following after Matsukawa as he sweeps his dark cape unintentionally and starts walking off. Oikawa slings a leg over Suga’s back, the hummingbird taking flight after Terushima, who quickly buzzes ahead to lead the group. The distance between bee and human puts Iwaizumi at ease a little, but he’s still very cautious eyeing Terushima, trying not to get too close. Bokuto and Kuroo take the back of the group, making noises at each other that probably translates into some sort of conversation.

Everything is so calm and gentle, walking past a babbling brook that reflects the light of the moon, which is moving ever closer to the horizon. Light green leaves and dark pine needles float down the brook from upstream, and tiny iridescent fish that Iwaizumi has never seen before jump out of the surface of the water to spread open tiny wings and glide over rocks in the water. He stops to watch them with awe, as he has done with multiple other things on their journey, but Hanamaki has come up with a foolproof way to get him moving again.

He chases Iwaizumi with a bee.

He circles around the rest of the group every time Kuroo or Bokuto announce Iwaizumi has stopped again, then encourages Terushima to fly towards him at full speed from the opposite direction they should be heading it. Iwaizumi usually notices at the last second and jumps up with a yelp, stumbling over his feet as he sprints back to catch up with Matsukawa, using the slightly-taller-than-him witch as a shield. It’s fun, it’s cheeky, and apart from a small fright, it hurts nobody. Lapsing back into peace, they round a corner, and grind to a halt. 

Oikawa, Suga, Hanamaki, and Terushima can’t go any further without preparation at this point. Iwaizumi’s jaw drops. Right in front of them, just a few centimetres away, is a wall of white. More accurately, it’s a point where the entire landscape just switches into a winter nightmare, with flurries and blizzards and snow up to a meter deep. 

“Uh...”

“What? Did you think I wore this cloak for nothing?” Matsukawa gestures towards his thick black cloak with a smirk, highly entertained by Iwaizumi’s confusion and bewilderment. Not really sure what to do, Iwaizumi approaches the wall and presses a palm against it. It feels like the air is vibrating against his fingertips, and he pushes through it to stick his hand straight into the blizzard, as you do. It’s freezing cold! He should have expected that, he thinks, as he draws his hand back to look at the snowflakes gathered on it that slowly melt into his skin. His look of awe dawns as he notices the barrier stretches on for as far as the eye can see, separating what appears to be spring from what appears to be winter.

“What _is_ this?”

“ශීත රැල්ල. I suppose in your human pronunciations, it would be called śīta vaḍadiya.”

“That’s... Not a language I recognise.” Matsukawa shrugs. 

“Either way, we have to go through this. My cottage is about a ten minute trek in.” Iwaizumi looks down at his bare chest and stares back at Matsukawa with an expression that reads _“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”_ With a soft laugh, the witch pulls off one of his jackets and passes it over. Oikawa makes a sound of admiration as the jacket – a soft, downy brown – is pulled down over Iwaizumi’s body.

“That looks great on you, Iwa-chan!”

“Yeah, for once, Oikawa’s fashion sense is correct. It suits you.” Oikawa shoves at Hanamaki to try and throw him off his bee, but Terushima has a spectacular centre of gravity and moves to keep his companion upright as the peony fairy laughs. Iwaizumi chuckles and rubs at the back of his head sheepishly.

“Thanks, I guess. But what are you two going to wear? Don’t fairies get cold?” Hanamaki and Oikawa look at each other before turning back to Iwaizumi with matching guilty expressions.

“We’re not coming.”

“Mhm. Our wings will snap if we go in without protection.”

“It’ll take at least four hours to get everything prepared, but you don’t have that long until the Akhlut’s wake up. You have to go, _now_.”

“We’re sorry, Iwa-chan... But we’ll come by tomorrow!” Iwaizumi nods understandingly, deciding not to mention or show how much it actually _hurts_ and _**terrifies**_ him to see them splitting up, even just for a night. It feels like losing them, and something in the back of his mind says this is it. This is the end. This is the last time he’ll ever see them. He knows it isn’t! He can feel that it isn’t, that the doubtful whispers in the back of his mind are from somewhere else, but he can’t place it and it makes him uneasy.

“Iwaizumi? Ready to go?” Kuroo and Bokuto are sat by the foot of the snow wall, Matsukawa not too far from them and obviously waiting. He might be patient, but even he has a limit. Iwaizumi tries to steady his breath.

“Y-Yeah, sure.” He crouches down on his knees, offering out his pinkie finger.

“Promise you’ll come by tomorrow?” The two fairies grab on and shake it in unison, with matching grins. Silently, Hanamaki celebrates how Iwaizumi is completely overriding his fear of bees to give Oikawa and himself a proper, friendly send-off.

“We promise.”

“And fairies don’t break their promises! _Especially_ not fairy princes!” Hanamaki gives an ugly snort of disbelief as Oikawa puffs his chest up in pride, and Matsukawa laughs loudly in the background. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and shakes his head with no real malice, giving Oikawa a gentle pat on the head.

“Just don’t break this one.”

“I won’t! Makki and Mattsun are just mean!” The duo sigh together, probably used to Oikawa’s childish insults and frankly, quite bored of them.

“Oh, poor little delicate prince, how will you **ever** survive?” Before the balloon flower fairy can say anything else, Matsukawa clears his throat.

“Iwaizumi. We have to get going. They know the way, so they’ll let themselves in at dawn-break. But you need to rest after earlier, and the Akhlut are seriously getting close to waking hours.”

“R- Right, I understand.” He stands up again, and painfully watches as the fairies and their companions leave. It’s better to do it in silence, because words will only make them linger. Like ripping off a band-aid, goodbyes are something that needs to be done quickly, especially considering that they _saved his life_ and he feels whole with them. If they hadn’t left at that moment, Iwaizumi probably would have insisted on sticking together. He tugs the jacket – although it’s more a fur – around himself tighter, and comes over to Matsukawa’s side as he unrolls a thick rope. It crackles with wisps of dark blue, an overwhelming wave of magic almost knocking Iwaizumi off his feet.

“What’s that for?”

“Precaution. Kuroo, Bokuto, come over here.” Matsukawa loops the rope around them and it pulses gold before vanishing, as he holds one visible end out to Iwaizumi.

“Tie it around your waist. Nothing can interfere with it, but if we get too far from each other, it’ll tug us back in the right direction.”

“I see.” He does as told, at the same time as the witch, before Matsukawa steps through into snowy hell. Kuroo and Bokuto leap after him, and it’s just Iwaizumi hesitating on the other side. He’s just summoning up the courage to jump after them when the invisible rope around his waist tightens and drags him through, stumbling through thick, heavy snow. He shrieks and shivers, wrapping his arms around himself. Sure, the jacket covers his main torso, but what about his exposed arms and calf muscles? He belatedly remembers that he was dressed for summer back in his world, and the open toed shoes aren’t much defence against winter’s fury. Shivering violently, he pushes thoughts of temperature out of his mind, trudging through the thick pile-up to catch up with Matsukawa. Kuroo has perched on one of his shoulders, and Bokuto flies circles above them, alert and ready for _something_. The owl must be looking out for Akhlut, Iwaizumi realises. 

After 5 minutes walking, Iwaizumi isn’t sure why, but he can’t feel the cold anymore. He can’t feel his toes or fingers either, but that’s another story for another time. He strides through the snow with ease, despite the flurry being up to his waist and winds blowing against them. Even Matsukawa is struggling a little now, but Iwaizumi walks through it like the snow isn’t even _there_. For some reason, he feels thicker and heavier, like his body structure has changed and adapted to the environment. His hips feel more angular, and he can _sense_ his feet becoming more widespread, like snowshoes.

Just as Iwaizumi starts to think this is too easy, he spots something rapidly approaching them. Squinting, it feels like a film has dropped over his irises to protect them from the blizzard, and his focus becomes a lot better. Speeding towards them is something sticking vertically out of the snow, creating waves either side of it as it speeds directly towards them. 

“Hey, Matsukawa?”

“Yeah?”

“What is that?” He points in the direction of whatever it is, likening it to a dolphin fin slicing through water, and Matsukawa squints to scrutinise it before he physically flings himself backwards.

“Akhlut! Run!” Matsukawa sweeps Kuroo up in his arms and starts to run as fast as he can through the thick snow, cursing the depth which is more than usual. It’s harder to run, and the Akhlut are fast no matter the terrain. They have powerful, muscular legs with thick fur that help them grip the ground, but they’re also streamlined with rubbery bodies to slice straight through the snow. They have lungs, but they also have gills. And the most terrifying fact? Matsukawa only comes up to an Akhlut’s chin. They’re carnivorous murder-machines that run faster than he can. The only fortune is that Matsukawa zigzags through the snow, whilst the Akhlut struggle to make turns. He can hear Iwaizumi on his heels, but the ordeal from earlier has taken its toll and Iwaizumi is started to slow. The Akhlut gains, and where there’s one Akhlut, there’s always more. 

“Duck!” Iwaizumi hits the deck just as a young and smaller Akhlut bursts out of a snow drift, weaponised claws almost slicing through Iwaizumi’s back. Understandably, Matsukawa panics, because Iwaizumi can’t afford to lose any more blood. He adjusts his grip on Kuroo, grabbing Iwaizumi’s wrist with a free hand and started to drag him.

His breath clouds in the cold air, condensed exhale hitting him in the face before it has time to disperse as he flees for his life. Three Akhlut are behind them, fins carving through the snow ominously as it approaches. The further they progress, the more Iwaizumi catches up to Matsukawa, his natural stamina and physical ability overriding the exhaustion from his near death experience. 

“Head left! My cabin should be within sight!”

“ _Should?_ ”

“It moves sometimes!” Iwaizumi is blatantly confused, but suddenly skids to a halt, pulling Matsukawa back with him. The third Akhlut bursts from a wall of snow, razor sharp teeth snatching a shred of Matsukawa’s cloak from his elbow. Thanks to Iwaizumi’s quick reaction, it only grazes the skin beneath, nothing serious or requiring treatment. They don’t have time to stop and think, only to steady themselves on their feet and start running again as the other two Akhlut begin to circle them, closing in. Matsukawa raises his hand in the direction of his cottage, mumbling under his breath with eyes closed as the Akhlut move closer and closer...

Iwaizumi is pressed up against Matsukawa, back to back, Bokuto circling above them with frenzied screeches as he attempts to lend a wing in swooping down to distract the Akhlut, but they’re much more focused on bigger meat. Now that he has time to think – after mentally writing his last will and testament – Iwaizumi notes that these Akhlut look... Familiar.

Their upper bodies look like Orca, and their lower bodies look like Wolves. Adept pack killers on land and at sea, neither of those predators are something Iwaizumi wanted to face. Yet, here he is, technically faced with both at once. Three of them. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices yellow magic spiralling and gathering into Matsukawa’s palm, gaining a rich purple colour as it becomes spherical, with faintly glowing specks of black rotating around it in wisps of lilac. Matsukawa’s eyes fly open and he holds his arm out as he shouts his spell with a desperate undertone.

“By the Great Wiccan, ārakṣā!” Whomever this Great Wiccan is, they appear to have allowed Matsukawa’s casting spell, a pulse of nightshade purple radiating out from beneath his feet and shackles attaching themselves to all four paws of each Akhlut, rooting them in place.

“Hurry, it won’t last long!” Iwaizumi stumbles after Matsukawa, one hand weakly grasping onto the back of his cloak. His toes are freezing. His feet are numb. His fingers tingle and his teeth chatter and it’s getting hard to _breathe_ \- 

“Mrow!” Kuroo’s loud and agitated yowl breaks Matsukawa out of his sprint to safety, to the barrier of full protecting around his cabin just footsteps away, and he turn around to notice Iwaizumi lying in the snow, trying to push himself up again. Bokuto drops down from the sky in a flurry of feathers to land on Iwaizumi’s back, hooting and screeching in a panic. Quickly and quietly, Matsukawa swats him away and drops Kuroo into the snow. The cat familiar hisses at the sudden cold on his sensitive paws, but he can forgive his witch partner when he starts to help Iwaizumi stand up.

“Come on, not far to go... I’m sorry, I know it’s cold, but I’ll start a fire up as soon as we get in... Get up! You can do it!” Matsukawa realised with a burst of concern that Iwaizumi’s appendages were an unhealthy shade of purple-black. 

Frostbite.

Walking and running barefoot in deep snow, through a blizzard, with little more than a jacket and a messed up blood flow, Iwaizumi had contracted one of the most damaging conditions of all time. A witch he may be, but Matsukawa knew no spell for counteracting frostbite, nor did he know a full healing spell for humans.

“Iwaizumi, get up!” He put his back into it, arms looped around Iwaizumi’s chest and attempting to drag him through the thick snow into safety, whilst Iwaizumi fumbled and tried to work out which direction was up. Bokuto returned to the sky, wings beating desperately against torrents of air as he surveyed the situation below. Matsukawa, Kuroo, and Iwaizumi weren’t too far from the cabin, but the Akhlut were also not too far from _them_ , and the shackles around their ankles were starting to glitch and weaken. In a matter of seconds, they would be free and hunting down their marked prey again. Any other familiar would have immediately notified their witch and hoped for the best, standing on guard to intervene is necessary.

But Bokuto has a personal contract with Matsukawa, modified to suit his needs and personality. A contract that clearly states Bokuto has permission to act freely in dangerous situations. Situations, he concludes, just like this. With an almighty screech, Bokuto fluffs up his feathers into a giant puffball and _dive-bombs_ towards the Akhlut. They are generally taken by surprise, spooked by Bokuto’s sudden appearance, and scramble as far as the steadily extending chains will allow. Hooting with laughter at how these massive beasts scamper at his display, Bokuto almost misses the largest of the Akhlut lunging towards him.

Lucky for Bokuto, he has a best friend with a similar contract. Kuroo pounces from nearby and elegantly lands on the Akhlut’s snout, forcing it closed and doing a flip to show off as he bounces off the rubbery snout like it’s a spring board. It looked amazingly cool and impressive!! Until Kuroo hit the ground and disappeared into a now-cat shaped hole in the snow. All that showed was the rust coloured tip of his tail, fluffed up in reaction to the cold. Bokuto stuffed his face in the snow to muffle his screeching laughter, trying to save Kuroo a _little_ bit of embarrassment. The cat familiar managed to pull himself out his own deep hole, scowling and puffed up like a pom-pom. Powder snow stuck to the ends of his fur and he shook himself to get rid of them before they melted and made him all soggy.

With a yowl and hiss, Kuroo notified Bokuto of the Akhlut sneaking up to him, and the owl once more took to the skies. The Akhlut leapt after him, powerful back legs sending it up into the air faster than Bokuto could fly. So he did the one thing birds are best at, and the only thing he could think of in the terrifying moment.

He pooped. 

Now, regular bird poop is a splotch of white and black and maybe some remnant of berries. Magical Owl Poop™, on the other hand... A large egg-shaped blob of putrid green gloop falls directly into the Akhlut mouth and it explodes.

It _explodes_.

The explosion not only releases a stick substance that gums the Akhlut’s jaw in place, it gives off a nauseous gas that spreads out in a deceptively gentle pink cloud. It looks like cotton candy but it smells like rotten kimchi whirlpool mixed with decomposing crab and rotten potatoes. Needless to say, the Akhlut trio is swift to evacuate, a hasty exit that is most likely even faster than when they hunt. Bokuto puffs up his feathers with pride before a gagging and wheezing distracts him. 

Whoops. He’d forgotten to warn Kuroo. He hoots his apology, mentioning that there was no time, and Kuroo delivers a sharp glare right back at him. Burying his face in the snow, Kuroo follows the track of lingering magic – which he can feel in his paws – back to his master. He refuses to remove his head from the snow until he bumps into a platform. Shaking off the snow, he makes the small leap up onto the decking area of the cabin, patiently waiting for Matsukawa to get the door open. He’s worried too. Iwaizumi has managed to stand on his own and has Matsukawa’s cloak around his shoulders, but he shakes and shivers and Kuroo is sure human lips aren’t supposed to be a shade of blue.

“Kuroo, get the fire on. Bokuto, set up the cauldron.” Matsukawa holds the door open with his heels just enough for the Familiars to get through, before kicking it open. It’s a struggle, considering his hands are still occupied with keeping Iwaizumi upright. For all it’s worth, Iwaizumi has a fighting spirit. He reaches out and opens the door enough for Matsukawa to get his elbow there, holding it open enough for the two to shuffle though. 

“We’ll get you warmed up, just hold on...” The witch lets the door slam shut behind him as he ushers Iwaizumi into a wicker chair lined with soft cushions. The human settles quickly. He burrows into the largest cushion, holding the thick cloak around himself tightly, like a cocoon. Pleased by how _strong_ Iwaizumi seems, even in the face of deathly frostbite, Matsukawa moves away from his side to root through a magical wardrobe that automatically gives him the thing he wants, as long as he owns it and wants it for definite. Armed with 4 blankets, two pairs of gloves, a scarf, and six odd socks, he returns to Iwaizumi’s side and starts to bundle him up. He winces as he fights the clothing on, pretty sure that this is somewhere between second and third degree frostbite.

Gently, he cups Iwaizumi’s hands in his own and holds them tenderly through the gloves, generating heat in his palms by redirecting his magic pathways. He doesn’t rub, as much as he is tempted to speed up the heating process, because he knows this will damage the tissue. Slowly but surely, he can feel the material – and therefore Iwaizumi’s hands – warming up and beginning to move. He flexes each digit slowly, not overdoing it which is sensible. Moving them too fast or too much at this delicate stage could damage his hands on a cellular level. The only reason Matsukawa knows this is because Kuroo is feeding him the knowledge telepathically whilst stoking the fire with an air pump. Henceforth, he trusts his clever familiar and follows his instructions, guiding Iwaizumi through the steps too.

“Bokuto, has the cauldron boiled?” The owl glances at the water in the bronze pot and whistles out softly. It’s simmering, but not boiled. 

“That’ll do. Thank you, both.” Kuroo meows and steps away from the air pump, allowing the fire to burn its natural course through wood and coal. He and Bokuto move backwards quickly, knowing that if they accidentally knock it over _again_ , it will this time mean hot water goes everywhere and it could cost the limbs of a new friend. 

“M’not cold anymore, s’okay...” Matsukawa scoffs at the surprisingly quiet voice. For some reason, he doesn’t know why, but everything inside him warns him that a quiet Iwaizumi is not a healthy Iwaizumi. He gently starts to tug away all the blankets he’s used to get Iwaizumi at _least_ to just below 20®C. Considering they have no knowledge of the human body and are referencing witch health, Matsukawa thinks he and Kuroo are doing a pretty good job.

The last to be removed is the jacket Matsukawa leant Iwaizumi, and he gasps as he opens it. The Camellia on Iwaizumi’s chest is covered with a layer of ice, cracked veins filled with water through the thin sheet. Matsukawa reaches out to brush the ice off the delicate petals, but Iwaizumi _screams_. It’s painful to him, almost a torturous level of agony.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry... Okay... Let’s- Let’s try and melt this ice off properly...” He eases Iwaizumi out the last item of clothing and picks him up, not allowing him to walk on frostbitten feet for fear of permanent damage. The water in the cauldron is a good 39®C, causing Iwaizumi to grit his teeth and hiss at the sharp, prickling sensation as Matsukawa slowly lowers him into it inch by inch. It’s not easy to do, Iwaizumi weighing more than the Witch had expected. Gosh, he feels about as heavy as his namesake – A rock. 

Once Iwaizumi is safely deposited in the bronze cauldron, Matsukawa keeps an eye on him whilst filling up a glass of water at the counter nearby. He’s fortunate, in circumstances like these, to have a house that is entirely two rooms. The bathroom upstairs, and then everything else in one large room. The bathroom needed a whole floor to itself thanks to Matsukawa’s familiars and waste disposal. Exploding owl nuggets and radioactive cat poop is _**not**_ his cup of tea. Sighing, he shakes his head slowly to push those thoughts away. He comes back over to Iwaizumi’s side and holds out the glass of tap water.

“Here, drink.”

“Drink?”

“Yeah. You need to rehydrate.” Grumbling, Iwaizumi takes the glass of water in clumsy hands and sips at it before attempting to pass it back with a displeased look. Matsukawa raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms, waiting until Iwaizumi pouts and then drinks the rest of the glass too. With a grin, Matsukawa takes the glass and throws it back towards the kitchen sink. He levitates it at the last second, setting it in the bowl gently and turning back around only to burst out laughing at Iwaizumi’s shocked, horrified, and thoroughly impressed expression. Once he’s calmed, Matsukawa dips a hand into the water. It’s starting to rapidly cool, and Iwaizumi flexes his fingers to show that he can move them properly again.

Most importantly, however, Matsukawa reaches out and brushes his fingers over the flower on Iwaizumi’s chest. This is connected to his life-force, through some strange circumstances, and Matsukawa is coming to learn that _anything_ that happens to the bud and its tiny protruding petals will affect Iwaizumi. As it is, he shudders under the soft touch. Maybe the case of frostbite wouldn’t have been so bad if the flower had been better protected.

“Alright, let’s get you dry, wrapped up, and in bed.”

“But I’m not tired.” Iwaizumi’s childish statement is promptly followed by a yawn and he growls at himself under his breath as Matsukawa snickers and holds up a large fluffy towel.

“Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to be awake. After all, we gotta do this cauldron process about... 4 or 5 more times? Just to make sure the frostbite hasn’t settled deep within your tissues.”

“Joy. Great fun. I’m so hyped for this. No, really, I am. Stop laughing.” Matsukawa can’t help but snort loudly at Iwaizumi’s deadpan tone with a tinge of sarcasm, clearly less than thrilled by the prospect of having to sleep in stages. Still, he climbs out the tub and into the waiting fluffy towel, sighing happily as it’s wrapped around him, warm and soft. Unconsciously, he nuzzles into it a bit, not noticing how Kuroo and Bokuto share a raised eyebrow and sly grin.

“I don’t think I have any clothes that’ll fit you perfectly, but... I should have some old stuff that’ll be pretty close.”

“Thank you. I’ll be grateful for anything you can lend.” Matsukawa goes over to the magical wardrobe once more, this time taking longer since he has to root through for clothing he’s not entirely sure he still has. That’s one of the downsides to the magical wardrobe – It can’t provide something unless it’s pictured _perfectly_. The time Matsukawa takes to fight his wardrobe, Iwaizumi looks around the interior of the cabin.

The richly coloured oak wood is intertwined with tree branches in places, spiralling up to the ceiling with its low hanging beams and rustic charm. One of the walls is entirely shelving, filled with books that look handwritten on the top row, and spell books on every other. His attention turns to the floor, a smooth birch wood that has been painstakingly and caringly sandpapered down and smoothed to perfection. He’s already taken not of the wicker chair, egg shaped in design and cushioned with light green and white pillows. The light green and white tends to carry as a theme, apparently, from the gemstone statues on top of the fireplace, to the mugs in a rack above the sink. It’s open plan, so Iwaizumi can see everything on this floor from where he stands near the centre of the room, between the wicker chair and the cauldron.

The fireplace is at one end of the room, and the front door at the other. The door must be laced with magic, because branches wind around it and seal it off from the outside. There’s no draughts, no chill, no leaks... Iwaizumi wonders if it may be Matsukawa’s spells keeping everything tip-top shape, until he takes a close look at the support beam just to his left. The craftsmanship is incredible! There are tiny carvings in the wood, unnoticeable at first until Iwaizumi really looks. He leans in, eyes squinting, and runs a finger over the delicate carvings. He finds fairies, flowers, Akhlut, things he hasn’t yet seen and maybe never will, as well as the lunar cycle and constellations.

“Wow...”

“You like it?” Matsukawa comes back to his side and passes over the clothes, Iwaizumi nonchalantly dropping the towel to the floor to get dressed. He nods and humms in approval as he pulls on the pyjama-like trousers and loose cotton top. His eyes continue to trace the column, picking out intricate designs and details. He thinks he sees Kuroo and Bokuto etched into the wood very high up, so far up that there is only an A5 space left before the column hits the ceiling. 

“I’ve lived here for 72 of my past lives.” Matsukawa gestures towards the bookshelf wall.

“The ones bound in leather are my diaries from each life. You’re free to read them, if you so wish.” As curious as Iwaizumi is, he decides not to, waiting to see where boundaries lie before he starts to freely do things in Matsukawa’s quaint and humble cabin. He doesn’t get to say this before a large yawn escapes him and his eyes start to close against his will. A warm and gentle hand lands on his shoulder and guides him over to the bed, large enough for two people. Truthfully, Matsukawa only got it because he was _sure_ his long limbs would take up more room than a normal bed, but in this situation, his big bed proved very useful. Too tired to protest, Iwaizumi sinks into the mattress with a long, slow exhale.

For a moment, there’s only the sound of clothes rustling, and then the bed dips as Matsukawa sits on the other side to pull his socks off, throwing them somewhere across the room. He’ll find them in the morning, but it’s been a long night with extensive magic use and he’s ready to _hibernate_. Lying down, he gravitates towards the centre of the bed where he usually sleeps, and automatically throws an arm over Iwaizumi. The human subconsciously leans back into the heat, on the verge of drifting off and yet still painfully away of the icy prickling in his toes, fingers and his chest. The flower bud, although not covered in ice anymore, still feels stiff and cold and worryingly brittle. 

“Good night, Iwaizumi.”

“Night...” He shuffles down as Matsukawa pulls the cover up to their necks, a thick winter duvet that weighs the perfectly comfortable amount, and chases off any lingering chill.

“Night Kuroo, Bokuto.”

“Night Mattsun!!!”

“G’night!” Two minutes pass of the magical trio holding their breaths and trying not to laugh before Iwaizumi bolts up in the bed, sitting upright with a comical expression of betrayal and shock.

“ _They **talk?!**_ ” Bokuto howls with laughter first, breaking the dam that holds back the other two, Kuroo bursting into ugly guffaws and Matsukawa having to hold his stomach as he laughs heartily. Iwaizumi’s cheeks redden the more they laugh, before he huffs in irritation and embarrassment and flops back into the mattress, back turned to Matsukawa purposely and shifting away when he attempts to spoon him for warmth once more.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you they can do that~.”

“Only inside the cabin though! We can’t talk outside!” Iwaizumi doesn’t respond, and Matsukawa frowns in concern that they may have made him feel left out, or irritated him, but then a soft snore rumbles from his resting body that causes Matsukawa to smile gently, using the lightest and most careful of touches to bring Iwaizumi back towards the centre of the bed. He curves around him to provide warmth. As it is, the proximity allows him to feel Iwaizumi’s heartbeat, and he’s sure something will wake or alert him if it changes. He pulls the duvet up _again_ , before flicking his eyes over to his familiars.

“Get some sleep too. We’ll be up in four hours to heat the cauldron again.”

“Yessir!”

“An’ can we get something to eat too? I dunno about you and Bo’, but I’m starving.” Matsukawa humms as he closes his eyes.

“Later. For now, sleep.” He hears the flapping of Bokuto’s wings as the Eurasian Eagle Owl settles atop his favourite perch; and the impact of Kuroo’s paws hitting the bed as he jumps up to join them. He curls up in crook of Iwaizumi’s knees, yawning largely with a creaky meow before he puts his head on his paws, and almost instantly drops off. Smile in place, Matsukawa too finds himself shortly arriving in the plane of dreams and REM.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a massively positive response to making this MatsuHanaIwaOi, so that is definitely going in that direction! (I'm secretly happy screaming over that, I love OT4 so much.)


	5. Fire, Ice, and eggs.

_“Hajime! Hajime, where are you, honey?”_ The voice is disembodied, and Iwaizumi instantly knows he’s dreaming. He doesn’t recognise the voice, but at the same time, something tells him this is his mother. But... It’s not? He knows his mother’s voice off by heart, and this is another woman. Then why do his instincts scream at him that this _is_ his mother?

 _“Coming, Mama!”_ A young boy, about 6 or 7 years old skids into the blue haze Iwaizumi can see. He has skin that glistens like ice, semi-translucent and glittering as it shines. Iwaizumi realises the boy is _literally made of ice_ , but as he giggles, his grey eyes turn bright green and his skin bursts out into bark with spring flowers erupting from his joints. Iwaizumi gasps as he watches the young child plainly shift seasons before his eyes. His hair- which was dull grey and spiky before, is now shorter but softer and floppier, extremely dark brown hanging down the tips of his ears, a flower poking out from behind each one. 

_“I’m here, Mama!”_ Slowly, around the boy, everything else starts to come into focus. They’re in a cave lit by fireflies, the walls a dark ruddy brown with water dripping down from a glacial ceiling, and a woman stands off to the left. She looks more tree than human, but Iwaizumi knows this is ‘mama’. _His_ mama. The tree woman crouches down and runs a branchy hand through the little boy’s hair as he beams, blossoms budding in his dark hair and vines spreading down his limbs. Is that... Could that be...? Him?

_“Did you clean up for lunch, Hajime?”_

_“Yes! I went down to the brook and-! Oh no! Mama, mama, I left my practice book by the brook!”_ An image of parchment paper pops into Iwaizumi’s head. It’s not really a book, but lots of rudimentary parchment stacked together and tied with a vine. He doesn’t recognise the letters on it – the closest human language he can think of is Viking runes – but he somehow knows this book is full of important spells, blessings, and magical songs. He’s struck with the undying need to get it back.

 _“Go and get it Hajime, hurry.”_ Without further word, the boy of forest flashes with electricity like lightning and flees from the room. Iwaizumi steps forwards to follow, and then it’s like he’s falling – floating – until his feet land on solid ground once more. It’s raining, he notes. The boy from before – himself and yet not himself – has an arm above his head, an umbrella of pure aqua shielding him from the rain. Iwaizumi’s lips quirk upwards as he remembers being young, asking why if fire is fought with fire, why couldn’t water be fought with water?

His smile fades when something shadowy pushes the boy to the ground, a puddle splashing beneath him. The boy pouts angrily up at the shadowy figures, which begin to form in front of Iwaizumi’s eyes much like the cave did. One has blue skin and wings like Oikawa’s – a thin membrane that shimmers in the sunlight. It also has large glowing eye, yellow and luminescent. Another shadowy figure is a dull red, brown markings across his face that remind Iwaizumi of war paint. The final figure isn’t anything close to humanoid, a goblin type creature that hunches over on all fours like a bulldog with protruding fangs. They’re much bigger and older than the boy – than him.

_“What’s the matter, **baby** , too weak to take this dumb book off us?”_

_“It’s mine!”_

_“Finders keepers, loser’s weepers.”_

_“You’re not allowed to do that! Mama says it’s bad to steal!”_

_“Well I’m not stealing, am I~? This pile of scrap was just lying here.”_ The three older creatures laugh, cruel and mockingly. Iwaizumi knows in his heart that this bullying is a regular occurrence. He can see it in the way the boy clenches his fists in the mud, the drop of his shoulders and the way the water shield wobbles and drips with the speed of held-back tears.

 _“Guess we should just **rip**_ this trash up!”

“NO!” Tendrils of lava shoot through Hajime’s skin, and Iwaizumi feels his breath stolen away as the atmosphere heats up like he’s standing right in front of a fire. But the three creatures just cackle and laugh like this is nothing more than a tickle to them.

 _“You need to cool off, **weakling**!” _ The bug-eyed bully sweeps his arms in a dramatic fashion, and water swirls from the brook and surges towards Hajime. The boy raises his arm with a look of fear, but before it can wash him away – like Iwaizumi expects has happened multiple times before – the water freezes in midair. There’s a purple runic circle floating in the space between Hajime and the water jet, and although it is shaky, it holds.

 _“Pick on somebody your own size!”_ Iwaizumi’s head whips around to behind the bullies, where a small boy not much older than Hajime stands, an overgrown coat wrapped around him and a scarf tied in a bow around his waist to stop the coat falling down. He has messy black hair and dark brown eyes that are somehow cold yet fiery at the same time. It doesn’t take long for Iwaizumi to recognise this newcomer as Matsukawa. 

But- But how?! He’s a kid! As the bullies scatter, because there’s now two children standing against them instead of one and one is a powerful witch, Iwaizumi recalls that Matsukawa said witches were technically reborn. This must be one of his lives in the early stages, and the thick black journal tucked under his arm must be one of the books he now stores on his shelves in the cabin he built. He absent-mindedly wonders if Matsukawa’s cabin already exists. The little witch smirks, tugging his loose coat sleeve back up to his shoulder, and steps over the brook via small stones, scooping up Hajime’s parchment on the way. Luckily, it landed on the edge of the water and not in it.

 _“Here.”_ Hajime stands up and rubs at his eyes like they weren’t just watering up, wide with fear. He closes his eyes tensely and extends his magical umbrella to include Matsukawa, something the little witch marvels at. 

_“That’s so cool... You’re really strong! Why d’you let them pick on you?”_ Shuffling guiltily, Hajime’s bark-like skin shifts into tan skin that looks like he’s trying to mimic the texture and sight of Matsukawa’s appearance. He’s trying to fit in, Iwaizumi realises. This smaller and ultimately different version of himself is so desperate to find a friend, he’s imitating Matsukawa in hope of changing **species**. Iwaizumi doesn’t need to hear it, because he can feel it. Through his chest, through the flower – he thinks – he can feel exactly what Hajime is feeling, catches glimpses of what he’s thinking.

 _“Cus if they’re picking on me, they leave everyone else alone... I- I can take it! I’m tough!”_ Hajime lifts his fist into the air as if to display his hardiness, only to lose control of his appearance and have it harden to stone. His appearance – the seasons and elements he whirls though – is gauged by his emotions, belief, mood, and words, Iwaizumi notes. Since he mentioned he was ‘tough’, he literally became something tough!

Matsukawa laughs brightly and Hajime giggles quietly with a shy smile, his skin fading back to bark and buds appearing behind his ears, in his hair, and around his chest. Just... Just like Iwaizumi’s... He has the **same** camellia flower, but pure white and fully blossomed right bam-smack in the middle of his chest. For a moment, Iwaizumi blanked. Or was it the dream? Nightmare? ...Memory?

When everything came back into focus (again), they were back in the cave and there was a sweet aroma floating through the air. It was something citrus, but cooked and warm, like mulled wine in hot chocolate on Christmas eve. A bundle of flowers and vines and plants came trotting in though the cave entrance, dragging Matsukawa behind him with a barely visible hand. The flowers had overgrown so much that Hajime was completely buried in them! Iwaizumi chuckled softly, since he knew the flowers bloomed from happiness.

 _“Mama, mama, look! I found a friend! Or rather; he found me!”_ Hajime’s mama turned around, her tree-trunk appearance never changing until she saw the moving bundle of foliage and chuckled gently, tiny cherry blossoms peering out from her hair, which was thick as a forest canopy and juniper green. There were red berries around her ears too, hanging like earrings. Hajime dropped his parchment papers on the ground near the table, although Iwaizumi supposed it was meant to be  on the table.

 _“Oh sweetheart, can you even see though that~?”_ A proud Hajime shook his head with a bright grin that gleamed between two hibiscus vines, petals and leaves shaking themselves loose from his rapidly growing foliage. His mama crouched down next to Hajime and started pushing the vines aside, humming as she plucked off the flowers close to base. She removed everything except the two sunflowers on his head and the camellia on his chest. Iwaizumi understood that the song she was humming not only removed all pain of having the flowers plucked, but helped to control the growth of new ones, so they didn’t overwhelm the boy who had moments ago been a walking bush. Almost instantly, smaller buds grew back, but they were only tiny. Excitedly, Hajime gathers up his removed shrubbery and offers it out to Matsukawa.

 _“Here! For my first friend!”_ Matsukawa giggles like the child he is, tucking his journal into his oversized coat and gratefully plucking out a pink rose. Iwaizumi softly smiles at the significance. He’s not sure if the children understand, but a pink rose generally stands for confidence and trust. An image shoots through Iwaizumi’s memory and he gasps as he recognises the pink rose from a glass container in Matsukawa’s cabin, a spell shimmering around the glass like gold sprinkles which must mean-

This is the same rose! He wonders if the magic is going to his head, and he’s imagining a story based around the rose he saw, but that doesn’t explain why he feels so _connected_ to Hajime. Why it feels like he _is_ Hajime. 

_“Have you introduced yourself properly, my little one?”_ There’s a teasing tone to his Mama’s voice, like she’s fully aware of Hajime’s shyness and social awkwardness. Hajime blushes, puffing his cheeks out in embarrassment. His cheeks bloom with red and white amaryllis, the petals expanding out to cover the entire lower half of his face. Matsukawa giggles and reaches out pushing the petals covering Hajime’s mouth backwards. He grins brightly, and Hajime’s hands start to glow with soft firefly light, the daffodil yellow spreading slowly up his arm. His Mama laughs and gently rubs her hands over Hajime’s arms, removing the glow, but not the warmth Hajime feels in his heart. The amaryllis, with concentrated effort; fade back into Hajime’s grin.

_“I forgot, Mama...”_

_“Go ahead~. Introduce yourself.”_ Hajime takes a comically large breath and bows at the waist, almost toppling over if it were not for his Mama grabbing the back of his rag shirt. 

_“Nice to meet you! I’m Hajime!”_ He jolts back up with a massive grin, skin glowing with the same soft firefly light, but much less intense. Matsukawa holds his pink rose close and smiles gently, his curly fringe falling into his face. He bows politely.

_“I’m Issei. I’m a witch, but you can probably guess that from the spell I cast.”_

“Iwaizumi!” 

_“I’m Hajime and-”_

“Oi, Iwaizumi!”

_“I can change my properties cus-”_

“Hey, wake up! Don’t die on me, asshole!”

_“Me an’ Mama are some of the last-”_

“ **IWAIZUMI!** ” Iwaizumi bolts up, arms and legs flailing as he finds himself falling. He smacks into the floor right on his spine and groans with pain as the duvet flutters down innocently to cover him. Kuroo and Bokuto burst out into laughter, and Iwaizumi realises he is no longer in his... Dream? Fabrication? Memory? 

“Holy shit, you scared me.” He pushes the duvet off his face to see Matsukawa leaning over, offering a hand with a face of concern. Iwaizumi reaches out to take it, noting that he still feels cold, almost frozen. Oh yeah. Hypothermia and frostbite. It was worrying that he’d forgotten about that, and even more worrying when he completely missed Matsukawa’s offered hand. Even Kuroo and Bokuto shut up. They note the blue haze of Iwaizumi’s skin, the way he shivers almost unnoticeably, his lips cracked and almost purple. It’s worrying. They’re not humans. They’ve never seen a human before. But they know this isn’t ordinary, that humans don’t just magically turn into ice and feel at home with the snowy weather.

“C’mon, Iwaizumi... Let’s get you warmed up...” Matsukawa steps round to him and lifts him up via the underarms, not at all surprised when Iwaizumi stumbles into the chest. The human grunts, displeased at his own weakness, but it’s not his fault. Matsukawa, exhausted from the ceremony yesterday, had fallen into a deep sleep. Neither Bokuto or Kuroo were light sleepers either, so Iwaizumi had gone almost seven hours without the much needed cycle of bathing and warming up. Despite the fact he had been curled up against Matsukawa much of the night, Iwaizumi had only grown colder.

“I’m so sorry, I slept through waking you up... Holy shit, you could have _died_...” Iwaizumi grunts again, finding stability on his own feet and stumbling over to the cauldron in the middle of the room with assistance. Matsukawa sits him down in the same egg-like chair as before, and Kuroo instantly jumps onto his lap, spreading out so that his paws are on Iwaizumi’s shoulders, head under his chin, and chest stretched across Iwaizumi’s torso, leaning to one side to avoid aggravating the bud. His back legs rest on Iwaizumi’s thighs, tail curling around to lie over one of his freezing cold hands.

“Thanks...” The hoarse whisper is all Kuroo gets before Iwaizumi is closing his eyes again, and – reluctantly – Kuroo unsheathes his claws and swipes one across Iwaizumi’s upper arm. Green eyes peel open with a questioning glare.

“Sorry kid, but you can’t go back to sleep. You might not wake up.”

“Don’t call me kid... M’probably older than you...”

“I’m 17.”

“Shit. I’m same age as you. Still don’t call me kid.” Kuroo snickers as he withdraws his claws, padding around on Iwaizumi’s lap before rearranging himself on the opposite side of the icy bud. He glances over the top of the chair, seeing Matsukawa stoking the cauldron fire, whilst Bokuto carries a bucket back and forth, emptying snow into the cauldron to melt and become bathwater. The blizzard from the early hours of this morning has gone, so there’s nothing but a small chill coming through the household. The door is still open when Matsukawa dips his hand into the cauldron and hums in approval.

“Bokuto, can you find some herbs for me?”

“Sure thing! I know where all the best herbs are!” The eagle owl takes off out the door like a rocket, wings tucked into his body to imitate a bullet to get through the doorway. Matsukawa shakes his head with a sigh, knowing Bokuto will be back very shortly, since he didn’t take a list of _which_ herbs the witch needed. Although... Knowing Bokuto, he’d just bring back a little bit of everything. 

“Mattsun. He’s getting colder...” Facial expression pinched in concern, Matsukawa kneels down in front of the chair and nudges Kuroo away. Everything seems like standard hypothermia, until his eyes fall on the flower bud.

It’s completely frozen over and sealed shut, a block of ice keeping it rigid on Iwaizumi’s chest.

“This is- This has to be magic. There’s no way this thing can just freeze itself over and affect his entire body.” He undresses Iwaizumi from the burrowed pyjamas, scooping him up before slowly lowering him into the cauldron. Iwaizumi hisses at the difference in temperature, the water prickling his skin like a thousand needles. It’s when the icy block on his chest touches the warm water that he kicks out, trying to escape. It’s too much, _far **too much**_ -

“Easy, easy... I’ve got you...” Matsukawa instantly hoists him up again, keeping him just high enough so that the bud is hovering above the surface of the water. Steam rising from the cauldron water swirls around the icy, and droplets of water slowly fall into the cauldron to create ripples. They’re not going to get much further until the ice has fully melted off, Matsukawa realises. He look over to Kuroo, who matches his helpless expression, but jumps onto the side of the cauldron anyways. 

“... I could try and use fire magic to melt it a little faster, but...”

“You don’t have full control. Is it a risk worth taking?” Matsukawa exhales slowly to think. Kuroo, as a magical cat and witches familiar, can breathe fire. However, their contract is young in comparison to most witch-familiar relations, and Kuroo’s magic is still unsteady. There’s a chance he could lose direction and burn Iwaizumi, or he won’t stop in time and char the bud. He could also accidentally slip into using toxic fire, which utilises radiation from his gut.

“... It’s worth the risk. Do it.” Kuroo stares at him, giving him seconds to change his mind, before he takes in a deep breath, closes his eyes, and intensely focuses on the boiling in his chest. _Softer_ , he thinks, and the boiling humms to a simmer. He opens his eyes and focuses on the ice cube, calming his nerves as much as possible before he opens his mouth and emits a tiny flame. It’s smaller than they need, but Kuroo is pleased to see the flame is yellow instead of blue or green, and too small instead of much too large. He leans closer, increasing the distance the flame covers millimetre by millimetre. The ice starts to drip much faster, melting under the fire cat’s touch. 

It’s just as the last of the block is melting, that Bokuto comes screeching back in through the open door, scaring the radioactive _shit_ out of Kuroo, and making him lose his focus. The flame dies as his paws slip on the edge of the cauldron and he falls head first into the warm water. Iwaizumi – obviously feeling much better – barks a laughter as the cat appears from between his legs, ears flat against his head and fur drenched. He grumpily spits out a fountain of water, glaring over at Matsukawa who’s shoulders shake as he tries to hold back a laugh. A restrained snicker escapes him, sounding much like something dying.

“I didn’t know you could breathe _water_ too, Kuroo~.” Kuroo hisses and spits in his direction, paws paddling up to Iwaizumi, whom is kind enough to lift him out the water and holding him in dry, strong arms. That is, until Matsukawa lowers Iwaizumi fully into the cauldron. The water comes up to his shoulder and Kuroo screeches as he’s dunked once more, scrambling to escape the thing he hates most.

What can he say? He’s a cat. And a fire user. Two things that really didn’t go with large pools of water. He darts over to the fireplace, setting it aflame with an irritated puff of fire, and curls up on the mat with his chin on his paws. He glares in the direction of the other three, hoping they’ll feel guilty.

“Sorry, Kuroo. Didn’t think the cauldron was that deep. And thank you for your help.” Iwaizumi sinks into the warm water, sighing as it chases away the chill. Kuroo can’t bear to be mean when he’s so polite and honestly grateful.

“S’fine. At least _somebody_ isn’t at fault for dunking me in the cauldron.” Matsukawa snickers again as he uses a lava cloth to rub at Iwaizumi’s face and neck, warming him up where the water won’t reach. It might be a little overbearing, but the red molten cloth is hugely comforting and fights off any chance of frostbite on Iwaizumi’s face, like his nose and ears. Bokuto drops a massive clump of plants by Matsukawa’s side before he squawks indignantly. 

“I didn’t mean to!!! I was just flying in!” He flaps over to Kuroo’s side, ignoring the warning growl he gets when he comes too close, wings creating a cold breeze that doesn’t help Kuroo’s aversion to water. Rather, it makes it feel like it’s soaking in further.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Flapping.”

“OH. Sorry, Tetsu!” Bokuto folds his wings away and awkwardly steps over to Kuroo, fluffing out his feathers to act like a heater as he encases Kuroo in his tummy fluff. Kuroo can’t help but admit that it is warm in here... And comfy. He purrs as he nuzzles in closer.

“Thanks, Kou~.”

“Any time!” For a moment, it all falls quiet apart from the water sloshing in the cauldron. Then, there’s the faint twinkling of bells before Oikawa and Hanamaki comes in through the door, tiny bells attached to the saddles of their escorts.

“Hello, we have arrived!”

“Yo~.” Matsukawa looks over his shoulder with a small smile, lifting a hand in greeting. From behind him, Iwaizumi leans back and waves too.

“Hey, you came just in time for bath time.” Hanamaki pulls a face of disinterest, but Oikawa gasps and directs Suga to flutter over to the cauldron edge. He dips his hand in and sighs contentedly.

“Perfect temperature! You don’t mind; do you, Iwa-chan?”

“Not at all.” Iwaizumi shuffles around in the cauldron to prop his knee up just below the surface of the water. Oikawa sheds off his balloon flower dress and his translucent wings rapidly blur as he hovers in the air, lowering himself down onto Iwaizumi’s knee carefully. He gives a happy sigh and crosses his legs, grinning up at Iwaizumi with his chin in his hands and elbows on his knees.

“Thanks, Iwa-chan~! I love baths, but it’s so difficult to get a hot fairy bath!”

“Really?” 

“Yeah! We have to have dust baths to keep our wings soft and parasite free! Sometimes we get to splash in puddles, but the water is so cold, I can’t stand it!” Iwaizumi laughs, but Hanamaki is the opposite and fakes a gag.

“Who needs _baths_?! A good mudpack is the best!”

“That’s why Makki is always so dirty.” Hanamaki scoffs and rolls his eyes, noticing far too late that Matsukawa had reached out and pinched the back of his shirt. Lifting Hanamaki off the bee, Matsukawa chuckled at his struggled and flower-based swear words, before dropping the fairy in the cauldron. Iwaizumi cupped his hands under the water, raising them slowly to reveal a soggy little glare directed straight at Matsukawa. The witch laughed, loud and free, as Hanamaki stood in Iwaizumi’s palms and shook himself off.

“Great! I’ll never get the water out of these petals! I’ll be soaked all the way home and turn into an ice-cube!” The laughter dulls down, although Iwaizumi never broke more than a smile in the first place, concerned for if fairies could drown in this deep a cauldron. It quickly turns into a frown. Oikawa tilts his head with large, innocent eyes and pats Iwaizumi’s knee to get his attention.

“What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, just... Something on my mind.”

“What Iwaizumi means is that we need to speak to you about something. Do you... Know anything about ice magic?” Hanamaki and Oikawa look at each other with puzzlement, before slowly switching back to Matsukawa.

“ _Ice_ magic? Why, that’s extinct. It died out shortly after the demon war, when the Aeon and Yuki-Onna died out.” Matsukawa’s brow furrows and he humms in thought, sharing a concerned glance with Iwaizumi.

“We’ll have to wait and see if it happens again. I’ll set up a futon near the fireplace, just in case.”

“Wait, see if what happens again?”

“Last night... I don’t know why, but my uh... My bud frosted over.”

“It was a literal ice-block this morning, and for some reason, it influenced Iwaizumi’s entire physique.” Iwaizumi nods with a sound of agreement, lifting Hanamaki to the edge of the cauldron and then dropping his hands back in the water. The peony fairy shakes out his wings and tries to put tiny water droplets off his outfit. _Tries_. It’s hard when the soft petals are cupped to capture moisture. After a beat of tense silence, Oikawa claps his hands, loud enough to startle Kuroo and Bokuto.

“Anyways! Mattsun, I wanna read more of your journals!” Matsukawa chuckles and waves his hand in the direction of his bookshelf. Taking that as permission, Oikawa jumps out the water, shakes himself dry and pulls his dress back on. He whistles sharply and Suga hovers nearby as Oikawa leaps back on, jingling the bells. Iwaizumi watches the hummingbird curiously as the bells continue to ring whilst Suga flies. Terushima bumbles after them, and Iwaizumi notices the bee has them on too. Hanamaki crosses his arms with a smug expression.

“Bells infused with heat, for a chill you can’t beat!” Iwaizumi blinks at him with a blank expression before he bursts into a laugh, handsome and bright. Hanamaki feels his cheeks heat up and he taps his toe on the cauldron edge as he blushes shyly, hands behind his back. Matsukawa notices, even as his own blush tingles the back of his neck. Iwaizumi’s laugh is... Warm. Attractive.

“What _was_ that, Hanamaki? It sounded like you were trying to sell me them!”

“I- I just said it the way the charm-Sharman would!”

“Charm Sharman?”

“The most talented spell fae in our kingdom. They can enchant any object with a spell, but some objects are more receptive than others. Bells just so happen to be the best thing for a heat spell, so since we came all this way through snow and ice...”

“Hmm, I’m just glad last night’s blizzard defused by morning – or well, afternoon. Considering it’s past midday.” Iwaizumi whips his head around to the clock, eyes wide. Past midday?! No wonder he’s hungry... He wants to ask about food, but it would seem so rude when Matsukawa has been nothing but friendly and welcoming, and Iwaizumi has a slight anxiety about these things. Luckily, Iwaizumi is not the only one with a bottomless pit for a stomach.

“Mattsuuu _uuuuun_! I’m starving! Wasting away to feather and bone!” Matsukawa rolls his eyes at Bokuto’s complaint, but there’s a glimmer of amusement.

“Let me just steady the fire and then I’ll get cooking.” He prods around the logs beneath the cauldron, adding some coal briskets to it, and taming it with a gentle hand. His palm rapidly heats up, but it doesn’t burn. A spark of blue orange light erupts from his fingertips and dusts over the logs like glitter, before they grow into crystals. They capture flame inside them, steadily releasing the heat and fuel into the fire to keep it at constant level of burning whilst he’s away from the cauldron. After all, he doesn’t want to cook his guest!

“Right! Hamburger steak okay with everyone~?” Groan rise from around the room, from Hanamaki on the cauldrons edge, from Oikawa by the bookshelves – still picking a journal out – and Kuroo and Bokuto by the fireplace. Iwaizumi blinks in confusion as Matsukawa simply laughs.

“Okay, okay! No more steak, I get it! How about... Omelettes?” 

“Sounds good to me.”

“Omelettes!”

“YES!”

“I’m up for that.” Iwaizumi doesn’t respond, but it wouldn’t matter even if he disagreed because he’s outnumbered. That’s the way it’s always been. With his friends, with his family, with his part-time job and his university lectures... The voice of one is not as great as the voice of many, and Iwaizumi often sacrifices his own opinion for the sake of everyone else. Which is why he’s greatly surprised when five faces look at him patiently. They’re... Waiting for him to answer?

“I- Uh- Sure. Yeah, omelettes sound great.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah.” Matsukawa smiles kindly, reaching into the fridge and preparing the ingredients he needs. Iwaizumi doesn’t know why – when he’s obviously lost – but this feels so much like home. He feels cared about, loved, and _important_. In his heart, he knows he’s already full accepted them as friends verging on inseparable, despite not knowing each other long. Not even a day has gone past, and he knows – this is where he belongs.


End file.
